Theater Review: 'Chapatti'

Animals, as animal lovers know, are people too. People are the craziest animals might be the corollary. Christian O’Reilly “Chapatti,” the latest production at FST, is all about two elderly animal lovers who find each other in contemporary Dublin, Ireland. They’ve both shut down the beastly needs of the blood. But that never works for long.

Betty (Susan Greenhill) is a refugee from a bad marriage and a world champion cat lady. (With 19-and-counting in her home, she’s definitely earned the title.) Dan (Colin Lane) is the dog devotee. He’s still mourning the loss of his lover from years before, though a stray mixed terrier he named Chapatti keeps him tethered to the earth. Dan’s planning to find his mutt a good home and join his darling angel in the great beyond. But their mutual love of furry friends brings Betty and Dan together — in a vet’s office, naturally. They literally run into each other. Complications ensue and Dan misses his final exit. To be or not to be becomes the question — or to love or not to love. From Betty’s perspective, it amounts to the same thing. She’s knows what she wants Dan’s answer to be. Betty’s head-over-heels for this suicidal but still-virile ex-laborer. And sets a scheme in motion.

Kate Alexander directs this gentle fable with a light, loving touch. But there’s tight bone beneath the soft skin. O’Reilly’s play has a structure I’ve never seen before: alternating, first-person narratives spilling out of Dan and Betty, revealing their streams of consciousness. It’s like two short stories going at once, and it works. But it takes a deft hand to make it work.

This counterpoint unfolds in Isabel and Moriah Curley-Clay’s nuanced set depicting the characters’ homes — and a graveyard constantly looming in the background. Which would be everyone’s final home, eh?  Memento mori, as the theologians say.

The two fine actors are very much alive. Lane’s characterization exudes the same élan vital of her title role in “Becoming Dr. Ruth” at FST. Her Betty brims with girlish, giddy exuberance and easy laughter — the sound of which goes through Dan’s veins like a drug. (Betty’s a sex therapist of her own, come to think of it.) Greenhill’s character is gob-smacked but not mean. Dan describes himself as a “miserable bastard,” but he’s not a bastard at all, just miserable. Dan’s a wounded spirit, not a lovable curmudgeon cliché. That stereotype is an easy pit to fall into, but Greenhill keeps it real. Does Dan wind up at the end of a rope? Place your bets, ladies and gentlemen. Place your bets …

This could easily be sappy and sentimental — or heavy-handed and depressing. That’s not how O’Reilly plays it. He steers a middle course between sitcom cuteness and a Samuel Beckett-style obsession with the end of all things. Still, that graveyard is ever right in front of you. Love or death? Rope or romance? The ticking clock is always there, now soft, now loud. The countdown ends at exactly the right moment. Until it does, O’Reilly’s poetic, witty, well-written play springs a few surprises.

The play’s heart should not be a surprise. Old people exist. There’s intelligence, memory, feeling and wit behind their eyes. The rest of us should look them in the eyes. Ignore the candles on the birthday cake and you’ll meet some interesting characters. Like Betty and Dan.

You’ll enjoy their company — and definitely enjoy this play. At the end of this improbable, late-blooming romance, be sure to pet your dog and call your parents or grandparents if they’re still around.

Not necessarily in that order.