I’ll have whatever he’s having. But, surprise, it’s not a drink.
In Lauren Yee’s “The Hatmaker’s Wife,” title milliner Hetchman goes into ecstatic reverie whenever he puts on his fedora. He wriggles and writhes with glee and gets lost in the music unleashed by the magic-making thing on his head.
But Hetchman has shortcomings that make him resemble a Jekyll and Hyde figure. While he’s infectiously charming when he gleams with joy, he also is mostly a gross sexist with little care for his wife. In fact, for two decades now, he’s forgotten her name, and he calls her only when he needs something fetched or cleaned.
She, in turn, has long-suppressed desires to be seen, to be loved and to hear the music that turns her insufferable husband into a sweet spirit.
Jim Lichtscheidl delivers a vexingly realized Hetchman in Joel Sass’ imaginative, minimalist production of “Hatmaker” for Ten Thousand Things Theater. He finds all the right notes for his character, even if it’s to evoke an impulse to throttle him.
Lichtscheidl acts opposite Kimberly Richardson as the functionary spouse. Richardson inhabits her character with the vulnerability of a wet bird. You want to throw a blanket around her so that she can get warm and, at last, hear her own restorative song.
The one-act is done in Ten Thousand Things’ signature bare-bones style, with lights up on the audience, miniature sets and props, and all the actors’ costume and other changes in plain sight.
Yee’s surreal 2014 play offers scenes that slyly support feminist critiques of suffocating gender roles in and out marriage. The story mashes up magical realism with fable as a young couple, Gabe (a light and earnest Clay Man Soo) moves with his partner, Voice, into a new place.
