A strikingly disheveled David Flores, as Victor, a multi-millionare expatriate in Paris, walks into his own cafe and announces to his private staff that he is going to stop eating until he finally dies.
Given that the cafe is owned by Victor, is open 24 hours a day and serves only him, this strikes his staff as a painful and perplexing decision.
That’s the start of "An Empty Plate in the Cafe du Grand Boeuf," the season opener for the Windfall Theatre, 130 E. Juneau Ave., at its intimate spot in the Village Church downtown.
After announcing his intention, Victor's staff decides to tempt him with an imaginary seven-course final meal.
Enter the empty plate, each one placed precisely in front of Victor and accompanied by a mouth-wateringly detailed description of each dish.
What follows is either a comedy (there are jokes), a personal drama (we ought to feel sorry for Victor), or a morality play (the world of excess and bullfighting that was Ernest Hemingway, who has just killed himself in Idaho).
The Windfall cast struggles mightily against a relatively thin and superficial script that requires a suspension of disbelief if you want to get into it.
A big part of the play is that, while his staff is running around furiously and we're called on to laugh at obvious jokes, we never get to know why Victor is so distraught until near the very end of the play.
It turns out that he thinks he has been jilted by the woman he loves, and Hemingway has blown his brains out.
I’m not going to give away the reveal at the end of the play, but let it be sufficient to say that nothing is much of a surprise.
Flores is, as usual, a deft actor who wears the sorrow and pretension of Victor on his jowled visage. His best moments are early when his slow-moving end of life plan is revealed.
His performance is a stark counterpoint to some severe overacting by Claude, his maitre d, played by Matt Wickey; Mimi the waitress and Claude’s wife, played by Lindsey Gagliano; and the chef, who loves Mimi, played by Christopher Elst.
Somewhere along the line, director Maureen Kilmurry – who has a long and impressive theatrical history – needed to tell these three that often times less is more. Shouting is no substitute for being in touch with your character, and after a while, it is draining to hear.
I also confess to being bothered by Antoine, the waiter in training, played by Mohammed ElBsat. Playwright Michael Hollinger wrote him as a stutterer, but there is nothing to explain why. There are jokes about it in the play, but it doesn’t play any central or even important part. It would have been both easy and smart to take the stutter out of the role of Antoine and to eliminate the jokes that made fun of his difficulties.
"An Empty Plate in the Cafe du Grand Boeuf," runs through Oct. 12 and information is available at the website, windfalltheatre.com.
With a history in Milwaukee stretching back decades, Dave tries to bring a unique perspective to his writing, whether it's sports, politics, theater or any other issue.
He's seen Milwaukee grow, suffer pangs of growth, strive for success and has been involved in many efforts to both shape and re-shape the city. He's a happy man, now that he's quit playing golf, and enjoys music, his children and grandchildren and the myriad of sports in this state. He loves great food and hates bullies and people who think they are smarter than everyone else.
This whole Internet thing continues to baffle him, but he's willing to play the game as long as OnMilwaukee.com keeps lending him a helping hand. He is constantly amazed that just a few dedicated people can provide so much news and information to a hungry public.
Despite some opinions to the contrary, Dave likes most stuff. But he is a skeptic who constantly wonders about the world around him. So many questions, so few answers.
