‘The Hatmaker’s Wife’ @ Circle Theatre
Production photos by Taylor Staniforth, TayStan Photography
—Jan Farrington
Lauren Yee’s weird and delightful The Hatmaker’s Wife is still floating in and out of my thoughts—its fractured-folk-tale vibe combining with snippets of Fiddler on the Roof, Billy Crystal’s Miracle Max in The Princess Bride, vintage radio comedies, and vaudeville skits with rat-a-tat dialogue that knows just where the laughs are. It’s great fun, this regional premiere at Circle Theatre, and lives up to an early comment by the playwright, who said she especially enjoyed giving “virtuosic actors” something joyful to do on stage.
And virtuosic they are, these six players directed with crack timing and emphasis by Ashley H. White (Randy Pearlman, Krista Scott, Sky Williams, Patrick Bynane, Jon Garrard, and Daniel Ruelas), and getting a wonderful opportunity to strut their comic stuff.
I still have to wonder—it’s a question, not a ccmplaint—if San Francisco-born Yee, who developed Hatmaker around 12-15 years ago, would today feel as comfortable “appropriating” the cultural world of Yiddish theater. There’s such affection, empathy, and good humor in the script that there’s really no room to question her good intentions. It’s just that today, we’ve become more alert to playwrights staying in their own lane, for better or (dare I say it?) for worse.
Most of Yee’s other plays are set in a multi-ethnic contemporary world or in the past/present of the Asian culture and community (The King of the Yees, in a word, Cambodian Rock Band) She’s a bold playwright; perhaps she’s claiming her American-born right to snatch story from any part of our dizzyingly diverse national tradition—and who’s going to tell her to stuff this wacky and full-hearted piece of theater back in her portfolio? Not me, bubala.
And so, before the folks at Circle Theatre clutch their heads, back to the play.
Director White has a lovely feel for combining gentle but telling emotion with laugh-out-loud comedy lines, and the cast matches her skill with their own. The story bounces back and forth between present and past, real and surreal, and keeps us on our toes every minute as we peer into the house where old Hetchman (Pearlman) and his long-suffering Wife (Scott) once lived.
Designer Jeffrey Schmidt’s great set, built like the unfinished frame of a house (the empty walls, doors & windows make us feel like naughty voyeurs watching the neighbors), keeps things moving with characters darting over windowsills, in and out of doors, passing by picture windows, etc. (Lights and sound/music build out the atmosphere too, with Nikki DeShea Smith and Cresent R. Haynes on the job.)
Now a much younger couple, husband Gabe and wife Voice (Garrard and Williams) have moved from the city—he to commute, she to work virtually from the empty house.
But…it’s not empty.
Voice (the young wife) “sees” old Hetchman in his armchair almost immediately, and the house’s Wall (Ruelas) pipes up with comments and advice for her ears only. (Gabe doesn’t see or hear a thing.) Then Wall starts slipping story pages out of the vents (“next page”) to fill her in on what happened, in “her” house, to the Hatmaker and his Wife.
An Eddie Murphy horror-movie skit for the early SNL insisted that if a house started to talk to him (“Get…out!”) he be out the door (and the movie over) in a heartbeat. But our girl stays on, becoming more fascinated, more eager for the next bit of the goings-on. A busybody, flirtatious neighbor (Bynane) stirs the plot, and Hetchman, just to super-charge the cultural grab, summons up a surprisingly easygoing Golem (also played by Garrard)), more interested in snacks than destruction.
This is a story about who loves who, and how they find truths (some truth, anyway) about their feelings, needs and dreams. What seems cute and cuddly might be something else; what seems cranky and cold might warm up. Who knows? The hatmaker Hetchman has a hat that makes him happy (and I mean Fred Astaire happy) when he puts it on. The sad Wife wants her own hat, but can’t get her husband’s attention: he’s glued to the vintage ‘50s TV set. She needs to make a move. Can Wall’s version of these events be trusted—and can Voice find a way through the mishegoss? And how is this her business, even a little bit?
And watch for a repeated line and its repercussions—”Love keeps you grounded”—that’s seems so funny and true it needs to be a tattoo.
Trust me, you’ll have fun watching how The Hatmaker’s Wife comes apart and comes together. Yee’s oddball and endearing mix of characters (even the wordless Golem, who gets laughs out of shrugs and grunts and disappearing Cheeto bags) keeps us well entertained. And not to slight the rest of the cast, who do great work, it’d be a cold day in a Dallas August when I didn’t find Pearlman and Bynane leaving me in stitches.
And…as That Guy Up There says to the devout man in the synagogue who pleads to win the lottery: “Morrie, meet me halfway—buy a ticket!”
WHEN: April 17-May 10, 2025
WHERE: Circle Theatre, 230 W. Fourth St., Fort Worth
WEB: circletheatre.com
