Photo courtesy of J. Stubbs Photography (https://jstubbsphotographyvb.com/)

“Sandwiches are the most democratic of all foods… a whole meal in your hands” says Montrellous, the kind-hearted, philosophical convicted felon who serves as the de facto leader of the all-felon kitchen staff of Clyde’s, a greasy spoon sandwich stop which has become a favorite of truckers passing through.  Jason, the newest to the group, looks skeptical, but Leticia and Rafael, the two veterans of the kitchen, are literally eating up what Montrellous is putting down.  By the end of the hour and a half you spend with these characters of “Clyde’s”, playing now at Generic Theater, you will find their thoughts delicious as well.

The acting in this show is remarkably well done, both individually and in the interplay between the characters.  Rafael, played with Latin flair and salsa-style by Adrian Rivera, is constantly living in the emotion of the moment at hand.  That persistent “here-and-now” perspective is both Rafael’s greatest strength and biggest weakness when it comes to his sandwich- (and life-) game.  Rivera is hilarious in a role that could come off as one-note.  Meanwhile, Vania Alonnie is the optimistic convict Letitia who is never fully in the moment, always worrying about something going on off-stage (usually involving her daughter), a perfect contrast to Rafael.  Alonnie was engaging in the role and fun to watch, someone you want to be friends with (or, in Rafael’s case, maybe more than friends).  Then there is Jason, played by HRACT Award winner Andreas Zollos.  Jason, having just started working at Clyde’s, is more closed off from the others, protecting his emotions and unwilling to buy into the “church of the sandwich” (a term I’ve just coined now).  Zollos plays the slow opening of Jason to the world wonderfully, with powerful moments of anger and acceptance, and his embrace of Montrellous’s philosophy mirrors that of the audience’s.

Montrellous serves as lead sandwich artist, minister, and Buddha to the group, all in one.  It is his philosophical advice, embodied through the making of sandwiches, that drives each of the characters toward a better and more fulfilling life.  A role that could come off as preach-y or just annoying, Brandon Bradley brings an energy to the role that is instead fun, playful, gentle, and real – an energy that encapsulates the entirety of this production.  Montrellous’s foil is the bullying, cigarette-wielding, foulmouthed Clyde, the owner of the restaurant, who pops up at the peek-through order up window at the back of the stage in a new and intimidating but funny way at every (in)opportune moment.  A role shared by Leila Bryant and Leila Stephanie (we happened to see Stephanie), Clyde is a master of controlling the stage and keeping her employees in their place.  Stephanie pulls off the fun villain trick – the boss you’d love to hear stories about from your friend but who you want no part of actually meeting or (God forbid) working for.  And she is a powerful embodiment of the trap that society puts freed felons into, always being tempted by the same beautiful future as her employees, and always pulling away into her own cynicism.

The entire show takes place in a massively detailed and well-appointed commercial kitchen, complete with a working sink and appliances, the aforementioned peek-through order up window, and a huge walk-in freezer, all with an impressive Clyde’s sign hanging over the stage.  Scenic designers Sandra Epperson and Logan Bennett clearly had thought through every aspect of this set, which also has a couple tricks up its sleeve, including the most satisfying puff of smoke coming out of the freezer every time the door closed.  We also appreciated the fact that Generic is clearly paying at least a couple hundred dollars on groceries that are being cut up and cooked on stage every night rather than forcing their actors to fake it (a personal pet-peeve of mine).  And the lighting design by Jason Amato was stellar, coordinating wonderfully with the set.  Amato gives separate but complementary lighting to the main stage vs the peek-through order up window vs the outside world you can only see through a tiny window on the audience’s left.  He creates differing moods with his coloring/shading choices, and does so using main stage lighting made out of what appears to be industrial-sized aluminum kitchen pans. 

The lighting, in conjunction with perfectly chosen and cued sound effects from sound designer/co-director/actress Leila Stephanie, helps create some marvelously crafted individual moments on stage.  I found that I was living for the moment when the freezer door would magically open and there was Montrellous, among the plants in the freezer, smiling sublimely with a perfectly crafted sandwich in hand. 

And the moments on stage when the action would suddenly stop and Montrellous would desribe yet another perfect recipe. 

And the moments when Clyde would be tempted by the idea of a sandwich and try to resist, choosing the cynicism of her chosen life over the potential freedom but scary loss of control in searching for something better. 

And the moment of pure joy that the kitchen staff gets when reading the glowing newspaper review of their restaurant and Montrellous declares “we’ve been seen” – and they share a seemingly spontaneous group hug (a moment especially close to my heart as a review-writer myself).  So many well put together moments by co-directors Maryanne Kiley and Leila Stephanie, who clearly pushed both their technical staff and their actors to create something magical on stage. 

In the end, “Clyde’s” is a show about making the most of what is in front of you, and once you can fully embrace that, taking your destiny into your own hands and rejecting any pigeon-hole that society tries to put you into.  It’s a show about the intersection of philosophy and practicality.  And it’s a show about giving convicted felons who have served their time their freedom – in a real and meaningful way, not just in name.  You might just leave with some good ideas for delicious sandwiches too.