Three times now since 2005, I’ve been invited into the Aurora Fox to take in the three chapters of Jeff Daniels’ “Escanaba” trilogy, the well-known comic actor’s labor of love about a Michigan family and its beloved hunting lodge in the Upper Peninsula.
But I’ve never felt fully invited into this strange world and what makes it so endearing to “Yoopers” from Michigan all the way to the Aurora Fox, where the “Escanaba” plays have drawn capacity crowds every time.
For the final offering, “Escanaba: 1922,” I looked around almost with envy at a crowd of plainly charmed older folk who were nodding, smiling and laughing throughout. “What am I still missing?” I wondered.
To me, just because they talk funny doesn’t make what they are saying funny. Well, except the flatulence and the drinking of the animal urine — those are comedy givens.
The first and best chapter, “Escanaba in da Moonlight” was a “Dumb and Dumber”-style comedy with evident blue-collar appeal, until it got all weird at the end. That strange and mystical things happen in this campground is just part of the landscape. But this series just gets progressively less amusing and more existential.
“Escanaba 1922” lasts just 80 minutes — which is usually something I champion. Except most of those minutes are taken up by one unlikely and, frankly, dull conversation that, true to form, suddenly shifts into a supernatural flashback.
For the uninitiated, the “Escanaba” trilogy started at the end — in 1989, to be exact. For 75 years, members of the Soady family have trekked up to this remote cabin to pass gas and tall tales. They drink wicked booze and, of course, bag bucks.
The characters first seemed wildly original for the stage — poor Reuben was in danger of becoming the oldest Soady ever to not have bagged a buck. Jimmer Negamanee from Menominee was the odd-talking family friend who was once abducted by aliens.
That first “Escanaba” was a huge hit for the Aurora Fox, which hosted coinciding pancake breakfasts. The sequels have taken us progressively backward in time.
“Escanaba 1922” has gruff, middle-aged loner Alphonse Soady (James Nantz) putting the finishing touches on what will become the iconic deer-hunting cabin. But for some reason, he’s utterly helpless at hanging his own door.
Suddenly, in runs James Negamanee (William Hahn, who also played Jimmer), running from a bear. Thus begins a forced and overly familiar conversation between strangers about fate and farts. James is a free font of life advice like,”You gotta fall in love with tomorrow.”
But no dramatic momentum is ever established, nor is any basis for their friendship. When it’s mentioned, almost incidentally, that neither of these men has ever seen a black man, presto, the final 10 minutes takes us back to a Civil War battleground where Alphonse’s wounded father is befriended by a gentle solider named Black Jack (Noah Lee Jordan).
Suddenly, this shallow play is trying to swim in much deeper water, and it doesn’t hold up. This is a shell of a play that could never stand on its own outside the “Escanaba” trilogy.
But people seem to like it. The plays have been great for bringing new audiences into the Aurora Fox who wouldn’t be caught dead at Shakespeare or Stoppard. Daniels’ characters are likable, director John Ashton elicits fine performances, and we can all certainly identify with the Soadys’ generational dynamics and family rituals. Any comedy, though, that requires a full-page glossary faces an uphill climb.
“Escanaba” has been very good to the Aurora Fox — but it’s time for hunting season to end.
John Moore: 303-954-1056 or jmoore@denverpost.com
“Escanaba 1922”
Regional comedy. Presented by the Aurora Fox, 9900 E. Colfax Ave. Written by Jeff Daniels. Directed by John Ashton. Through Dec. 18. 80 minutes. 7:30 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays; 2 p.m. Sundays. $20-$24. 303-739-1970,
This weekend’s theater openings
“The Man Who Rented Christmas” A lonely fellow, on a whim, goes into a rental shop and glibly asks for a rented Christmas, complete with a tree, presents, five kids and a wife. Vocal selections by the Colorado Spirit! Chorus and De’Ja’Vue follow each show. Through Dec. 11. Arvada Festival Playhouse. 5665 Olde Wadsworth Blvd., 303-422-4090 or
“Santa’s Big Red Sack” Billed as “the holiday show you shouldn’t take your kids to,” this annual evening of comedy sketches is performed by members of the former Rattlebrain Comedy Theatre. through Dec. 24. At the Avenue Theater, 417 E. 17th Ave., 303-321-5925 or
“Real Housewives of the North Pole” The venerable Bovine Metropolis improv comedy troupe brings the worlds of Christmas and the catty nature of the “Real Housewives” series together for a comic mashup. Through Dec. 23. 1527 Champa St., 303-758-4722 or
“The Dinner Detective” This weekly interactive murder-mystery dinner is a whodunit that comes with a four-course meal. In this show, everyone’s a suspect, even you, and the killer might be at your table. Every Saturday night, open-ended. Midtown Arts Center, 3750 S. Mason St., Fort Collins, 970-225-2555 or
“Kentucky Claus and the Rebel Elves” It is Christmas Eve in Lickskillet, Ky., and six backwoods brothers are trying to make the best of it in a blizzard While trying to shoot something for Christmas dinner they accidentally shoot Santa. Through Dec. 30. Dangerous Theatre, 2620 W. Second Ave., 720-233-4703 or
“A Christmas Carol” Charles Dickens’ classic tale of miser Scrooge’s spiritual redemption. Through Dec. 18. Presented by Parker Arts Council at the 19650 E. Main St., 303-840-5406 or
“Columbo and the Case of the Country Christmas Killer” The interactive mystery company pays tribute to the late Peter Falk as Columbo stumbles upon a Western-themed Christmas party where he must must solve a mysterious death. Rated PG-13. Through Dec. 18. At the Broker Restaurant, 821 17th St. Denver, 303-292-5065 or
Complete theater listings
Go to our complete list of in Colorado, including summaries, run dates, addresses, phones and links to every company’s home page. Or check out our listings or
The Running Lines blog
Catch up on John Moore’s roundup of the latest theater news:
