‘Shoplifters’: Laughter, Food for Thought at Arena

Who knew that a couple of wayward steaks could be peppered with so much moral weight, spiced up with so much laughter, maybe even a dash of romantic wine and layers of nuance?

The matinee audience at Arena Stage’s world premiere production of “The Shoplifters” by playwright-director Morris Panych certainly seemed to get what was going on in this often riotously funny play, alternating between ripples and riffs of laughter with intense attention at the quiet, perilous moments, then breaking out in whoops of celebration like a seasoned sitcom audience, when two of the characters surprised them by locking lips.

Matinees—as opposed to the tenser, and perhaps more dramatic, atmosphere of an opening night—may be a truer test of audience appeal, at least with these various groups of seniors, many of whom seemed to take the plight of the characters to heart. Panych—while loading the play with verbal comedy of pain and tort and retort, as well as hapless physical comedy—has something on his mind in this play.

The setup seems simple—two female shoplifters, one of them a middle-aged veteran, the other a nerves-gone-to-hell, younger first timer—have been caught with the goods by two security guards at a supermarket, about to make off with the aforementioned steaks, plus the makings of breakfast and a birthday cake, discovered dropping from the ladies’ skirts.

What to do? What to do? With shoplifters like these—the wily, justice-minded Alma who has a reason and an answer for everything and the hyper-ventilating and twitchy Phyllis—and security guards like these—Dom with all the eagerness and vehemence of the really-holier-than-thou young Jesus born again, which he is, and Otto, the live-and-let-and-live, sanguine old pro who’s on his way out—the answer isn’t self-evident or easy.

Dom sees the women as criminals, and handcuffs one of them, while Otto, much more sympathetic to the women, finds a way to look at both sides now, less eager to call in the police for help and haul them off to jail.

“It’s just a pair of steaks,” Otto says. “You’re a security guard,” Dom says. “How can you think like that?”

Alma often gives away what she’s pilfered for months in the store. Phyllis wanted to celebrate her birthday. She didn’t have the ingredients for a cake, and out pop the sugar, the flour, familiar goods from familiar stores.

Let’s not forget to mention that Otto has more than a passing interest in Alma—he’s been watching her case the joint for months. “Why do you think you’ve never gotten caught before,” he said.

“The Shoplifters” is a gem in a minor key, as a work of literature and a play. Panych isn’t trying to get the characters to stand for the downtrodden, the picked-on, the unlucky, the poor, the 90 percent . Life, he recognizes, is unfair, which doesn’t mean we have to contribute to the unfairness.

In the end, what he’s done is make us see all four characters in full, beyond the issue of why Alma never says she’s stealing—or shoplifting for that matter—but always insists she’s taking things. Even Dom, who has more troubles than even he deserves, what with the twitchy eye, his desire to convert Phyllis to Jesus. He is, as Alma notes, two sizes too small for his job and is bathed if not immersed in compassion.

It’s easy for regular folks—as opposed to critics—to see themselves on that stage, there’s no unearthly beauties here, only quirks, and the skip-a-beat hearts of real people, quirky as they may be.

The set—by Kelly McDonald—is a marvel of modern mass consumption, a store room back lit in sections, a mountain of packages that are instantly familiar from weekend and daily shopping—the brand names immediately make you visualize Safeway, Giant and CVS aisles: Utz Potato Chips, Scott towels and Raisin Bran.

None of this, of course, would work were it not for the cast, a brilliant quartet perfect for the parts as written, doing honor to Dom, Alma, Otto and Phyllis. Broadway star Jayne Houdyshell is the play’s sturdy tree, nothing can shake her or embarrass her, including finding herself growing fond of Otto. She is the play’s hockey goalie—nothing gets by her, no insult or assertion goes unchallenged or unquestioned, including her own reasons for being. Television and screen veteran Delaney Williams (he had a recurring role on “The Wire” as well as “SVU”) is a man who knows himself well. He’s unwilling to strike matches around a gasoline puddle or make Grand Theft out of the loss of a couple of steaks “that will start rotting any time now.” He thwarts Dom in his law-and-order posturing, calms Phyllis and warms up to and sidles up to Alma. He’s sneaky-sly and as warm as bread fresh out of the oven.

Adi Stein makes Dom, if not likeable (that’s a too-tall order), understandable. It’s not about law and order, but about order, and doing something important, at all costs to decorum, kindness, logic and reality. And let’s not forget Jenna Sokolowski, a local favorite, who brings out the funnies in a gawky, physical way. This Phyllis wants to escape. She needs to go to the bathroom, and it’s as if no part of her body is immune from twitching and shaking, especially as she turns herself into a pretzel trying to reach a stun gun.

All the laughter aside—and there is a lot of laughter—“The Shoplifters” gives you plenty of food for thought. It’s not steak, mind you, stolen or not. It’s more like that special, unidentifiable ingredient in your mother’s homemade soup that you can’t quite get out of your mind or your taste buds.

You walk out. You see an Utz truck double-parked, and you smile all over again.

“The Shoplifters” runs at Arena’s Kreeger Theatre through October 19.