By Jae-Ha Kim
Chicago Sun-Times
March 31, 1992
Christmas With Elvis
7:30 p.m. Mondays, through May 4
Halsted Theatre Centre, 2700 N. Halsted
$10 – unless you wear blue suede shoes, then you get in free
(312) 348-0110
It’s Christmas Eve and Trudy Davis is alone. Not a big surprise, considering she’s a xenophobic bulimic who views food as “unmasticated vomit,” duct tapes her microwave shut and stocks her fridge only with Evian water. Trudy is a woman who needs a little fun in her life, and when she puts Elvis Presley’s “Are You Lonesome Tonight?” on her stereo, the King’s apparition answers her self-pitying call.
The scenario has all the makings of a melodramatic loser, but “Christmas With Elvis,” which premiered last winter at the Beat Kitchen, is a hilarious comedy by Terry Spencer that touches the soul. Revamped for its run at the Halsted Theatre Centre (every Monday night, through May 4), the play marks the return of Marc C. Nelson as the bloated, Vegas-era Elvis. Wearing a tacky white jumpsuit and sideburns long enough to be braided, Nelson succinctly portrays Elvis the hedonist.
When Trudy taps his shoulder to see if he’s real, he intones, “Lower baby.” Nelson’s languid speech pattern and slo-mo faux karate moves nicely offset Phila Broich’s hyperkinetic Trudy, whose nervous twitches begin where her suspicious glares end.
Trudy-girl, as Presley fondly calls her, views food with the same wonder she does Elvis: She covets both, but is scared to indulge in either. After Presley rejects her offering of Evian, a beverage he likens to bottled sweat, he makes a quick call to Dominos, sending her into frenzied confusion. “I never had Elvis Presley and nine pizzas in my apartment before,” she says, not sure which intimidates her more.
There is a hysterical love scene that offers the safest kind of sex possible, where the lovers never actually touch each other, and where one of the lovers is a ghost. It’s Presley’s music and famous virility, rather than any feathery caresses, that unleashes Trudy’s passion. He also proves to be a suprisingly good listener, something Trudy isn’t used to in men.
The play is confined to Trudy’s tiny apartment, but the feeling onstage isn’t claustrophic. Director Doug Hartzell keeps the dialogue moving at a quick, witty pace, a smart move considering there is little physical action to drive this play. The actors’ comedic timing is crucial to the success of the play and both Nelson and Broich pull their roles off with aplomb.
Depending on what week you go, an emcee might preamble the show asking audience members to vote for the “fat Elvis” stamp or order up a shot of Jailhouse Rock ($2 a shot). But in any case, “Christmas With Elvis” is a comedy that has a lot of heart and soul, much like the late King himself.
