Montage of Different Realities

The Sweating Door Alarm is a wonderful, bizarre piece of drama. Director Douglas Fitch has created a montage of different realities, using the stage to his best advantage. As the curtain rises, the audience faces a wall of television windows, each containing an animated actor. These actors struggle to burst out of the strict confines of the screens. In much the same way, The Sweating Door Alarm challenges the confines of the stage on which it takes place.

The Sweating Door Alarm moves smoothly and frequently between planes of reality. Fitch transports the audience from a strange, sickening hospital to an eerie campground in a Southwestern canyon. Soon the campground is overrun with Indians who dance wildly around a TV set/campfire, taking the viewer farther and farther from reality. The transitions from scene to scene are always surprising and often funny. Although simple curiosity about what will come next sustains a lively interest in a play, The Sweating Door Alarm offers much more.

As the play progresses, the viewer becomes more willing to accept the alternate realities which are being presented. The actors succeed in making strange scenes believable and even enjoyable. For example, a group of giggly creatures, resembling Dr. Seuss characters, watch a stuffed animal conduct a symphony. This is a moment of supreme humor and invention, and the viewer wants to accept this scene because it is so ingenious and hysterically funny. Fitch makes wonderful use of the bizarre atmosphere he has created.

Fitch, who also designs houses and furniture, makes the set and props an integral part of The Sweating Door Alarm. For example, the gray wall which serves as a backdrop is used to the fullest. Initially a wall of TV screens, it is transformed into a starry sky, covered in tin foil and used as an elevator. This set does not overwhelm the audience, but coaxes them into believing.

Props also play a significant role in the creation of new environments. In one scene reminiscent of a Monty Python skit, a huge canvas unfurls with a list of sundry things on it. An actor proceeds to call them out, and they fall from above. This is a great moment, but it relies almost completely on props.

The actors occasionally have difficulty asserting themselves amid the immense volume of stuff with which they must deal. The play ends with a huge piece of cloth covering the entire stage, in effect dwarfing and muffling the actors.

Sound, too, is crucial in the creation of this environment. Sound bytes fill out bizarre scenes, often lending them an even more fantastic character. Without the help of sound, many of the atmospheres might have been hollow or unbelievable.

Fitch himself gives a stunning performance, most notably as the surreal singer/TV announcer. He is hilarious, truly strange and apparently in his element. As the man who makes the monkey puppet dance, Fitch is captivating and wonderful.

In one particularly witty scene, the "goal" of drama is spelled out by a director (Donald Britton) to his cast. Britton is delightful, directing his cast to "give themselves" to the audience. The cast responds energetically. This glimpse at the process of drama and its joys enlivens the play and helps the audience empathize with the actors' task and appreciate their creation.

The Sweating Door Alarm is terrific. Fitch is clearly talented at creating environment--one really feels that this artist enjoys what he conceives. The actors adapt to Fitch's landscape skillfully, with a style and verve which saves the play from seeming belabored. Viewing The Sweating Door Alarm is like watching someone's imagination run free on stage, and for those able to stomach the weird and the wacky, Fitch's production provides an evening of pleasure.