The Artificial Jungle by Charles Ludlam
A fascinating test case for the claim that camp is born and not made. Playwright Charles Ludlum — when they put the guy’s name in the title, it’s maybe smart to take note — is quoted in the program as saying he uses reverse psychology on the audience: “I say the play is worthless and ridiculous and meaningless, and then the public, in its perverse refusal to do what I told them to do, insists that it’s profound, serious, important, and philosophical.” Of course, putting that statement out there is a neat bit of psychology in itself, especially since the play tackles the noir genre, which employed its conventions to get at something “profound, serious, important, philosophical.” (In a statement before the show I attended, director Robert Salerno said that noir “often took itself a little too seriously.”) Well, maybe “tackles” is too direct a word. Maybe “apes” is more apt, at least at first. For the first act, it’s a story that could be played straight if you excised a few silly bits about gullible cops and talking birds. The Artificial Jungle is the name that studly new hire Zach Slade suggests for the shabby and slightly shady Nurdiger family pet shop on Manhattan’s Lower East Side, circa 1979. Mother Nurdiger and son Chester love the place and each other, but Chester’s wife Roxanne has had it with portioning out worms and rats to feed the merchandise. Her husband reminds her that the law of the jungle dictates that something’s gotta die if something else is gonna live, and there’s our metaphor for the play’s action and society at large. Emphasis here goes on “could be,” however — because straight it ain’t. The actors are consciously self-conscious, one step removed from their characters; they might seem inexpert if we didn’t know better. It’s a tricky emotional tightrope to walk, particularly in moments of genuine crisis, but they mostly manage to avoid anything more than the occasional wobble. Then we get to Act Two, and the deconstruction-by-way-of-explosion begins in earnest. If you were sap enough to be taken in at the outset, the effect is disconcerting (noir is famously hard on saps). If you’re playing along, it’s good nasty fun. Props to the prop department, which makes the very most out of The Artificial Jungle’s artificial critters.