‘Tabletop’ high-tension hilarity at Playhouse

Tom Titus

Those of us who channel surf during TV commercials, or press

fast-forward if the program is on tape, can never fully appreciate

the meticulous artistry which goes into the making of a 30-second

spot -- nor, truth be told, would most of us care to.

Yet playwright Rob Ackerman has spent a decade and a half as a

property master for such endeavors, known as “tabletop” shoots in the

trade. And from this experience has come his tension-packed comedy

“Tabletop,” now in its West Coast premiere at the Laguna Playhouse.

The half-dozen artisans involved in the filming -- not of a full

commercial, just a few seconds of beverage pouring -- are serious as

a root canal about their work. After all, time literally is money,

scads of it from the sponsor who stands to rake in a bundle when the

commercial airs. And those involved are steeped in experience and

expertise in their distinctive professional areas.

All it would take is one neophyte running against the wind to

torpedo the entire operation, and in “Tabletop,” Ackerman has created

one such person. Ron (Al Espinosa) is a youthful idealist, who views

commercial filming as an “ancient artistic tradition,” but possesses

the thumbs of a spastic -- a perfect ingredient for comic disaster.

In this 90-minute intermission-free production, the tension and

the comedy both run high under the insightful direction of Andrew

Barnicle.

We meet Oscar (Tony Jones), the black, veteran film technician;

Jeffrey (Sal Viscuso), the meticulous property master; Dave (Kevin

Symons), the edgy cameraman with a secretive private life, and Andrea

(Andrea Odinov), the no-nonsense assistant director with a drill

sergeant’s attention to detail.

Helming this tension-packed operation is Marcus (Jeff Meek), the

domineering director before whom grown men tremble. Were this

commercial shoot a military operation, Marcus would be General

Patton. And it’s Meek’s dynamic, profanity-packed performance that

provides the engine which runs Ackerman’s unique work.

Espinosa’s character’s input is neither sought nor required, but

he offers it anyway, often to the hair-pulling distraction of Meek’s

time-sensitive enterprise. We know these two characters are on a

collision course, and when it occurs, it’s a shattering confrontation

that will cause playgoers either to cheer or cringe, perhaps both in

unison.

Viscuso is the main man among Meek’s underlings, the veteran prop

master who spends much of his time squelching Espinosa’s eager-beaver

character, never losing focus from the work. Jones, likewise, has the

time in grade to become an expert at his end of the operation, and

this comes across splendidly in his performance.

Symons spends much of the play’s early moments in the background

before his particular quandary comes to the fore -- a personal issue

that audiences may guess before it’s revealed. Odinov is a female

dynamo, calling the shots in Meek’s absence and keeping the wheels

turning as smoothly as possible.

The setting, designed along the costumes by Dwight Richard Odle,

is an amalgam of lights, cameras and recording equipment fashioned as

a hollowed-out warehouse replete with tools of the advertising trade

and splendidly lighted by Paulie Jenkins.

“Tabletop” may be replete with technical dialogue discernible only

to those involved in the commercial-preparation profession, but you

don’t require a glossary to enjoy this crackling comedy. It’s a wild

and woolly knuckle sandwich for the advertising industry.