Carmen Berkeley is a much better actor than her character is a waitress in immersive Oh, Honey (photo by Krystal Pagan)
OH, HONEY
Little Egg
657 Washington Ave., Brooklyn
October 16 – November 7, $28.52 – $87.21
uglyfacetheatre.com
www.eggrestaurant.com
I’m an immersive theater junkie. Just say those two words — immersive theater — and I’m in, no matter the place or the subject; add in site-specific and I start palpitating with excitement. Several of my colleagues would rather be tortured by a Bad Cinderella marathon than see site-specific immersive theater; they don’t know what they’re missing. (Or maybe they do.)
So I jumped at the chance to see Jeana Scotti’s Oh, Honey at the happening Little Egg community restaurant in Brooklyn.
When I arrived at the eatery, on Washington Ave. on the border of Crown Heights and Prospect Heights, I was led to a chair in a row that had been squeezed in between a table and the beginning of the L-shaped counter. Most of the audience is seated at tables or at the counter, as if they were regular diners, but a handful of chairs and stools fill in empty spaces, a reminder that we’re here to watch a play and not have dinner, marring the site-specific illusion.
I initially declined a (free) mug of homemade tomato soup and the menu; already squished in the cramped row, I had nowhere to put the soup or the slice of pie I wanted to order. I understand that they need to get as many paying customers in to see the play as possible, but I already had a bad taste in my mouth. I looked around and I seemed to be the only one dissatisfied, but still.
I asked a waitress if there was anywhere else I could sit; I usually don’t complain about these kinds of things, but my level of discomfort was so off the charts I was considering just leaving. Fortunately, they were able to move me to the end of a long table, where I enjoyed the tomato soup, a glass of water, and a fine piece of lemon meringue pie. My site line was less than desirable, but I settled in for the show.
Four mothers (Maia Karo, Dee Pelletier, Mara Stephens, and Jamie Ragusa) meet the first Monday of every month at diner (photo by Krystal Pagan)
The action takes place at a table by the window, where four women meet for lunch the first Monday of every month. Vicki (Maia Karo), Lu (Dee Pelletier), Bianca (Jamie Ragusa), and Sarah (Mara Stephens) all have sons who have been accused of sexual assault on college campuses. (The story was inspired by a 2017 New York Times article about four such mothers in a Minneapolis suburb.) The women come together as a kind of group therapy to discuss their lives and their legal situations. They are served by Mari, a waitress portrayed by Carmen Berkeley, the woman I’d spoken to earlier about my seat; it turns out that she’s one of the actors.
Berkeley also stands out in the show. When it’s just the four mothers talking, arguing, commiserating, and supporting one another (or not), the play, directed by Carsen Joenk, feels fussy; their conversations are not something other diners would necessarily want to eavesdrop on. But when Mari is involved, the energy bumps up and various narratives become more intriguing.
Berkeley is terrific as Mari, who takes center stage a few times, from a confrontation with a man (Brian McCarthy, Lucas Papaelias, Jesse Pennington, or Ean Sheehy) to a surprising and poignant monologue about herself.
I’m glad I stuck it out, even if the seating arrangement continued to befuddle me. Not every meal is a delight from appetizer to main course to dessert, and the same can be said for immersive, site-specific plays, including Oh, Honey. But in the end, it is satisfying fare.
[Mark Rifkin is a Brooklyn-born, Manhattan-based writer and editor; you can follow him on Substack here.]