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Manatee

nytheatre.com review by Pamela Butler
August 15, 2005

Manatee, a play in 18 scenes by Alex Moggridge, is a good example of why I love theatre. It is the offering of Sea Cow Productions (which makes me wonder if all their productions mention sea cows), done in the style of the well-known post- World-War existentialist writers, with an added layer of purely modern American humor and irreverence. To me it’s always a pleasure when this kinds of work is as well done as it is here. The trinity of the theatre—script, actors, and direction—is justly honored.There really isn’t a plot; hey, it’s existential. But what happens between the intelligent and alert Terrence (Karl Herlinger) and his more rudimentary companion Ray (Tate Ellington) is a fine distillation of the human condition, the dilemma of everyman in his bleak space and worn clothes with holes. These two are, in turn, infuriating, laughable, and all too familiar. And this is America, so add sugar, in the form of vending-machine-style Hostess snacks.Before the play begins we’re treated to a program with a glossary for both Part 1 and Part 2. "Manatee," "frugiverous," "Korea," and "matinee" all figure in the first part, while "palindrome," "hippo," "Mongolia," and "Monterey jack cheese" are among the items given for Part 2. I can’t say I remember hearing all the terms listed in the performance, but some, like the play’s title, stand out more than others. The dialog moves along—observing, questioning, challenging. There are remembrances of an acquaintance named Steve and a writer named Knut, stimulating the two men to muse on hunger, deserts, the past, the present, and the future with a simplicity that allows the actors to express their all-too-human selves. Patrick McNulty’s direction is spot-on.Less is more, right down to the set—a nearly broken lawn chair, a grey milk crate, and a small Eastern-looking chest that Terrence at one point runs his fingers over, but other than that its presence is one more element to weave into your own pattern of engagement with the piece. Does everything resonate with poetic symbolism? I don’t know, but it’s always fun as an exercise, and often illuminating, as I believe it is in Manatee.My only complaint is with the 18 scenes. A strong opening and powerful ending won’t suffer with a tighter center: maybe 13 scenes? But this is a minor quibble. There are many superlatives that grace this effort, so my best advice, if you like this kind of theatre and even if you don’t, is to go and see Manatee and follow the trail of the sea cow wherever it may lead.