THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, April 23, 1995 TAG: 9504230026
SECTION: LOCAL PAGE: B3A EDITION: NORTH CAROLINA
TYPE: Theater review
SOURCE: BY FRANK ROBERTS, STAFF WRITER
LENGTH: Medium: 60 lines
Talk about your dysfunctional families - check the ``Belles.''
Their humor is dark, their serious moments are stark.
The heroines of the Tulls Creek Players soap opera are always fascinating if you like watching a family slug it out verbally.
Mark Dunn's play is about six sisters, each living in a different state, each with a different set of problems.
Some of the subjects have not even been tackled by tacky talk shows. When was the last time someone told Geraldo, Ricki or any of those folks that they had a ventriloquist sister who lets her dummy talk on the phone?
Said dummy is stolen - dummynapped? - and its owner complains, ``not even 911 would help find my little boy, because he's wooden.''
There are no wooden performances at Currituck County High School. The entire cast is credible and then some - Sandy De Hart, Robbie Harrell, Lisa Webster, Teresa Burnett, Allee Mines and Cookie Fish.
Each performer holes up in her own little cubbyhole, representing a room in their house that matches their personality.
For two hours they take turns on the phone whining and weeping, backstabbing and bitching.
To the delight of AT&T, GTE - and the audience - the calls are worthwhile. The dialogue is fascinating, often quite funny, and some of the problems - like it or not, folks - will strike a familiar chord.
There were very few chords on opening night. Only 25 people were in the audience - a shame, because the performers and backstage workers put a lot of effort in this and certainly deserve community support.
One problem could be the ads referring to ``Belles'' as an adult drama, but there is nothing going on that is terribly shocking, nothing most teens have not heard many times.
Most importantly, there is some very good dialogue.
One disgruntled sister tells someone on the receiving end of a suicide hotline, ``no use going to my minister. He's my husband.'' She further complains, ``he doesn't fix my blender or make love to me.''
We find out that the main reason for all the misery is an unhappy childhood because of an alcoholic father and a neurotic mother.
Peggy, who is still living with mom, calls her siblings about every little thing. One time, their mother tripped over a squirrel.
Each sister has her own problem. One lives like a hippie and changes her name when the mood strikes. Currently, she is called Dust.
The youngest girl is boy-crazy. At one point, she notes, she converted a young man who ``was'' gay. Another sibling is a lonely alcoholic.
That role is played by De Hart who doubled as director and can be given thumbs up for both jobs.
Her best moment is a monologue, trying to explain why the whole family is out in left field.
Do the sisters get together for a happy ending? Hard to tell, but as the play ends there is this line to ponder: ``We paid our dues - it's time for good things to happen.'' by CNB