Damaged Furniture 

Reviewed by Paul Birchall
Skora Productions
Extended through August 25 

RECOMMENDED 

In Damaged Furniture, playwright Howard Skora stakes out that familiar, if still verdant genre, the “crazy family” comedy. The show boasts quick-witted, funny dialogue and vivid multidimensional characters. At the same time, for all its glib charm and humor, the play is laced with an underlying melancholy, creating an atmosphere that’s part sitcom, part piquant meditation on our difficult relationship with family. It’s surprisingly wise and funny.

Struggling middle-aged actor Doug (Alex Skuby) is summoned home to Brooklyn after learning that his uncle has died, supposedly crushed by falling furniture in the family-run furniture store. Upon arrival, Doug quickly discovers from his hysterical Aunt Laurie (a wonderfully neurotic Mo Collins) that Phil died as a result of his sexual attraction to furniture — a condition that turns out be as disturbing as it sounds. Although Doug is waiting to audition for what he hopes will be his breakthrough role — that of a hermaphroditic robot on a Hulu web series — he’s gradually sucked into the lunacy of his immediate family. His mom (Peggy Maltby Etra) wants him to give up his acting dreams and take over the store as his dad (Robert Mangiardi) has just lost an eye to cancer. Meanwhile, Doug’s sister Gina (Jessica Pohly), possibly the least professional shrink in the New York area, seeks to solve all her family’s issues with alcoholism and rage, but becomes increasingly frustrated by the clan’s compulsive lying.

Skora’s dialogue is full of zingers and deliciously rendered snark, which director Jim Fall exploits with skillful panache. The situations sometimes verge on the overly broad, but the performers’ commitment and their impeccable comic timing transcend the comparatively silly elements (such as Uncle Doug’s’ sexual aberrations and sister Gina’s unconvincing attempts to play peacemaker). Notwithstanding the occasional credulity-straining contrivances, the overall sense of ambivalence towards family is portrayed with compelling believability. The environment here is really fucked up, to turn a phrase, but it’s handled with pathos, humor, and a goodly quantity of affection.

One theme that Skora plays up particularly effectively is the notion that you can understand your family, still think they’re insane, and yet forgive them. In one scene, alcoholic characters share a drink, even though they know it’s the worst thing for them — and the moment makes sense in context. While it may make the audience cringe, it’s a Leaving Las Vegas moment of bonding that allows for a bona fide emotional connection.

Skuby’s Doug, whose comparative normalcy serves as our entry to this demented family, convincingly portrays a fellow wading into an environment he escaped from with wide eyed apprehension. However, the supporting ensemble steals the show. Collins’ wonderfully shrill Aunt Laurie is a delight, as is Pohly’s ill-tempered shrink sister. Maltby Etra’s almost creepy Brooklyn mom and Mangiardi’s unrepentantly boozy dad are fantastically credible as well. A cameo recorded appearance by Drew Droege, playing Doug’s slimy L.A. agent, is very entertaining. Projected video backdrops by Brian Levin are so artfully integrated that they almost become characters in their own right, adding notes of irony and quirk.

Whitefire Theatre, 13500 Ventura Blvd, Sherman Oaks. Sat., 8 p.m.; extended through August 25. (800) 838-3006 or https://damagedfurniture.brownpapertickets.com. Running time: one hour and 45 minutes with intermission.