“A Kind of Love Story” at Oil Lamp Theatre

What an apt name for a tale of modern day romance: A Kind of Love Story. The current generation has been lambasted for our non-committal views and our reluctance to label aspects of our lives. So, in turn, we are given a love story that is a saga of missed encounters and opportunities that have fallen through the net. Oil Lamp Theatre’s first show of the season, A Kind of Love Story by Jenelle Riley, is marketed as 500 days of Summer meets Sleepless in Seattle, but it would be more appropriate to purely market it as a conglomeration of Meg Ryan’s rom-com resume of Sleepless in Seattle, You’ve Got Mail, and When Harry Met Sally.

What should have been a show both paying homage to and roasting romantic comedies instead is a study of how not to use tropes. In Riley’s script, the tropes pop up usually to contradict character arcs, rendering previous moments of sincerity false. In real life, we all see one another first at face value only, so to introduce characters via tropes is a natural way to begin a character study which then unravels and exposes more complex stories. Instead, Riley introduces characters and then employs tropes later for comedic effect at the price of invalidating everything we just previously learned about the characters. The stereotypes and complexities aren’t mixed to create a solution, but instead the oil and the vinegar remain separate. Tropes should be used as a touchstone, but in Riley’s script they are used as a surprise attack from behind a tree. 

We start with the trope of two great people (Mark and Ally) who are destined to be together in the end: classic boy meets girl. Mark, our “boy,” has stuck himself in the mental cage of being a “nice-guy” and can’t seem to find a girl that will take him seriously. Kyle Quinlivan gives this role as much sincerity and sympathy as he possibly can. With a less aware and intellectual actor, the role could have become overly self-pitying and cringeworthy as he breaks out into mini tirades about being too nice or as he continuously pines for his best friend’s wife, Diane. Instead, Quinlivan manages to hold our affection until the very end, with his physical comedy and tender speaking voice. 

Matthew Torres plays Bob, Mark’s best friend who has been married for ten years. Mark is envious of him because he seems happily committed and because Bob is constantly encouraging Mark’s endeavours to find love. Torres makes the most of this role, milking the romantic moments that make single people roll their eyes and then hamming up the toxic masculinity that he displays in front of his male friends.  Lydia Hiller plays the “one that got away,” Diane. Hiller brings a stability to the show as one of the most fleshed out supporting characters. In the role of a woman perpetually on a pedestal, Hiller mixes poise and grace with sincerity to prove that yes, Diane is a great person and wife; but no, she is not the angel that Mark has dreamt her to be from afar. 

On the other side of the stage, and the other end of the plot line, we have Rachel Silvert as Ally, the intelligent, funny, and independent woman who can’t seem to find anyone better than her flaky, noncommittal boyfriend Max. Silvert expertly carries the burden of portraying a smart woman who makes bad decisions while still assuring the audience through her candidness and sharp focus that she is in fact logical. Travis Monroe Neese has some of the most cringeworthy lines, but he tackles these instances with a double-edged sword of both humor and seriousness. Unfortunately or fortunately (depending on how you look at it), we completely believe that a grown man in this day and age would cackle and point finger guns while bringing a plate of vegetables instead of a slice of cake to his girlfriend. 

Hosting the evening is the ever-charming Rob Weinstein as the Narrator. With his gentle demeanor and warm voice, Weinstein is reminiscent of all the narrators watching over straight people falling in love within movies like The Princess Bride and Amelie. However, you can have too much of a good thing. It’s baffling as to why Riley’s script requires a narrator to come on stage before every scene to lay out the basic gist of it, return to summarize it, and return YET AGAIN to introduce the following scene in the same manner. A narrator should be used to communicate information that can’t otherwise be given in the scenes or to elaborate on the action that just took place. Weinstein’s talents were wasted by the tedious reiteration of how well-matched this pair was for each other based on their mutual hobbies and favorite movies. 

Joining this round of love-fools are Jaclyn Renae Jensen, Sharon Kushiner, Jared Sheldon, and Elizabeth Stenholt. Jensen applies all of her comedic skills of dead eyes, hollow laughter, and lilting voice as Ally’s roomate, Lucy, the pretty girl who acts dumb to get the attention of men. Sheldon frequents the stage as a slew of shallow guys who follow Lucy but push Ally aside, relishing in all of the satire that he could. Kushiner dons many hats to portray Mark’s failed dates and the tough as nails Kelly, who also falls prey to having all complexities wiped clean by an ill-timed trope application. Stenholt is our token lesbian of the evening and the voice of reason in this mess of heterosexual angst. She provides the long-awaited Deus Ex Machina, or in this case, the Gay-us Ex Machina, by being the queer angel coming to the rescue of these silly, straight people. 

Director Keith Gerth makes the most of this inconsistent script, expertly maneuvering all of the characters on stage. Undoubtedly the space at Oil Lamp is a tricky one, being both narrow and lacking in depth, but Gerth deftly wove all of the scenes together with an intricate traffic pattern. He cleanly and precisely crafted the moments of satire and drama, but unfortunately the script didn’t weave them together in a manner so that they would support one another. The script isn’t without intelligent moments or hilarious scenarios, but the inconsistencies leave us wondering if it is supposed to be a satire or a sentimental piece. Combining genres is a possible tactic that can be used to great effect, but it appears as if our playwright either didn’t come to a decision as to what they wanted to say or didn’t take the time and effort to weave the genres together with a single thread. Instead, the playwright left us with a baffling patchwork quilt of reality and cartoons. The director, production team, and the entire cast are all deserving of better material to apply their intellect and massive energy to. 

The production closes on September 8th, and it has a run time of 2 hours with a 10 minute intermission.Shows are at 8 pm on Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, with 3 pm matinees on Saturdays and Sundays. Oil Lamp Theatre is located at 1723 Glenview Road, Glenview, IL  60025. The theatre is BYOB, with complimentary freshly baked cookies, snacks, and soda. Tickets are available for purchase at their website http://oillamptheater.org/calendar/a-kind-of-love-story/. Adult tickets are $40 and student tickets are $25 and both are general admission. 

Somewhat recommended 

Sophie Vitello