Two one-acts, written and directed by John Dapolito, without much pre-production hoopla, make quite an impression as unusual takes on behavior, relationships, and redemption. Augie’s Ring, a slight but unwaveringly insightful bar play, introduces two alienated people to the real but ineffable world of human contact. Augie (Rick Colella, also co-producer with Susannah Julien), scowling over his rum and Coke in the corner of a dingy backstreet bar, has taken on the immutable stance of a monolith. The invisible sign on his back reads, “Leave me the fuck alone!” Girl (Carolann DiPirro), obviously inebriated and almost certainly an alcoholic of the type who would likely frequent the seedy neighborhood watering hole, takes Augie’s defensiveness as a challenge, a wall to break down, a local legend to displace, a Great White to bait.

Although we, the prescient audience, can figure out the outcome of their fearsome encounter, the getting there is an exciting and ultimately satisfying experience. This little girl, for whom game-playing is an art she’s practiced since she was in diapers, reaches for some point of moral stamina that breaks down the defenses of a man who’s lost what he loves, along with a part of himself he may never be able to recover. DiPierro is amazing — a bitch and a baby at the same time, a slutty woman and a teacher’s pet, a sad child and a ditsy dodo-head. You want to smack her and hold her at the same time, wash her face, put her in a ruffled cotton granny nightgown, and give her a mug of hot cocoa to drink while you tell her bedtime stories. Colella, a seemingly tough hombre with all the street smarts he needs to impress and inspire fear in the local lower-depth establishment, inspires much the same feelings. There’s no way these two shouldn’t be together. Great chemistry. Interesting inspiration.

An Act of Kindness gives us another facet of Colella’s ability to entrust us with his angst. As an artist who’s just burned all his paintings and opened his home to the homeless Ali (Stephanie Greene), who spends the major part of the play scarfing up a huge bowl of spaghetti, showered with a whole container of grated Parmesan — a divinely funny sequence that mystifies, then explains all — Steve (Colella) finds his way back to living through the example of a homeless pregnant woman who’s found her way, despite society and its pretensions. Again, Colella is perfect — an artist who has lost his emotional voice — and Greene is nothing less than superb. What more can I say?

Minimal production values — a black-box theatre that was redolent of chemical spray to reduce bug infestation in the ancient theatre seats, poor lighting, imperfect sightlines, inadequate publicity and press materials — all fade in light of major work crying out for significant recognition. This fledgling N.Y. transplant should grow well where it’s newly planted.

– Backstage West Review by Madeleine Shaner

Two one-acts, written and directed by John Dapolito, without much pre-production hoopla, make quite an impression as unusual takes on behavior, relationships, and redemption. Augie’s Ring, a slight but unwaveringly insightful bar play, introduces two alienated people to the real but ineffable world of human contact. Augie (Rick Colella, also co-producer with Susannah Julien), scowling over his rum and Coke in the corner of a dingy backstreet bar, has taken on the immutable stance of a monolith. The invisible sign on his back reads, “Leave me the fuck alone!” Girl (Carolann DiPirro), obviously inebriated and almost certainly an alcoholic of the type who would likely frequent the seedy neighborhood watering hole, takes Augie’s defensiveness as a challenge, a wall to break down, a local legend to displace, a Great White to bait.

Although we, the prescient audience, can figure out the outcome of their fearsome encounter, the getting there is an exciting and ultimately satisfying experience. This little girl, for whom game-playing is an art she’s practiced since she was in diapers, reaches for some point of moral stamina that breaks down the defenses of a man who’s lost what he loves, along with a part of himself he may never be able to recover. DiPierro is amazing — a bitch and a baby at the same time, a slutty woman and a teacher’s pet, a sad child and a ditsy dodo-head. You want to smack her and hold her at the same time, wash her face, put her in a ruffled cotton granny nightgown, and give her a mug of hot cocoa to drink while you tell her bedtime stories. Colella, a seemingly tough hombre with all the street smarts he needs to impress and inspire fear in the local lower-depth establishment, inspires much the same feelings. There’s no way these two shouldn’t be together. Great chemistry. Interesting inspiration.

An Act of Kindness gives us another facet of Colella’s ability to entrust us with his angst. As an artist who’s just burned all his paintings and opened his home to the homeless Ali (Stephanie Greene), who spends the major part of the play scarfing up a huge bowl of spaghetti, showered with a whole container of grated Parmesan — a divinely funny sequence that mystifies, then explains all — Steve (Colella) finds his way back to living through the example of a homeless pregnant woman who’s found her way, despite society and its pretensions. Again, Colella is perfect — an artist who has lost his emotional voice — and Greene is nothing less than superb. What more can I say?

Minimal production values — a black-box theatre that was redolent of chemical spray to reduce bug infestation in the ancient theatre seats, poor lighting, imperfect sightlines, inadequate publicity and press materials — all fade in light of major work crying out for significant recognition. This fledgling N.Y. transplant should grow well where it’s newly planted.

– Backstage West Review by Madeleine Shaner