Scott Burkell sells “Buyer & Cellar” at the Barn
AUGUSTA, Mich.–Actor Scott Burkell is so beloved at The Barn Theatre after 25 seasons performing here, audiences spontaneously applaud at his appearance, before he’s even said a word.
This is how opening night of the uproarious one-man show Buyer & Cellar went Tuesday night. And once Burkell opened his mouth, the laughter didn’t stop for nearly two hours.
Only the second one-man show produced here in its 70 seasons, Jonathan Tolins’ play is a work of fiction based on a ridiculous fact: Barbra Streisand built a shopping mall in her elaborate Malibu estate to display her decades-long acquisition of exquisite things. Tolins also met Streisand once and she offered him a piece of her Kit-Kat bar. He ran with this knowledge and created a terrific comedy that imagines the experience of one smart and sassy out-of-work actor who becomes the singular employee who dusts the dolls, cleans the dresses, and serves the frozen yogurt for the singular demanding customer in Streisand’s cellar of “shoppes.”
Burkell, of course, plays Alex More. He also plays Barry, Alex’s marvelously snarky boyfriend, “an underemployed screenwriter and habitual watcher of Turner Classic Movies”; Sharon, Streisand’s personal assistant who suffers no fools and “looked like she had been through it”; James Brolin, with his “permanent questing squint”; and the diva, of course, herself.
Most admirable in this production is Burkell’s comfort in the role of storyteller and ability to connect with the audience—crucial in a one-person play in which the sole actor has no one else on stage to play off. The Barn audiences love and feed him well. This is the great joy and success of this production.
He is transformed as Babs with feigned nails, hair, the coquettish gestures of a 68-year-old woman hanging on to middle age for dear life, and her Brooklyn accent. This is neither imitation nor mimicry, but real character work, and the scenes between More and Streisand are the highlight of the show. His restraint is commendable. He never reverts to cheap stereotype or even camp to effect any of the characters, though Barry could use more flair and vivaciousness if not other greater distinction from Alex.
All the roles are most usually performed by a younger actor, though this is only evident in a few references: Streisand’s desire for throw pillows in the color of Alex’s hair, the youthfulness of his language. His lot in life—that of a person whose car is in hock, sheets are from Target and area rugs from Home Depot. Minor distractions, really.
The play is a satire full of witty and playful observations as well as pop references. It simultaneously makes fun of and celebrates Jews, gays, Brooklyn, L.A. … Barbra herself. The Barn uses projected still images of the films and people as Alex speaks of them, which makes the references accessible to those who love, hate, love to hate, or are indifferent toward Barbra Streisand.
Ultimately, this is wonderful storytelling at the hands of a tremendous storyteller, and that’s exactly where the focus lies with straightforward technical elements. A simple white backdrop of a set designed by Michael Wilson Morgan with a few innocuous pieces of furniture and effective lighting design by Molly Lamperis delineate various spaces without fanfare and keep all eyes and ears on Burkell: honorary, if not actual, diva.