Written by Jaimz Dillman
Keeping up their established reputation for bringing new and thought-provoking theater to Orlando, Renaissance Theatre Company has debuted The Pitchforks: Murder on the DL this past month. A small departure from the interactive and roaming rooms of past experiences, this play is performed on one stage with traditional theater seating. But, as patrons of Renaissance Theatre Company are aware, this is where the traditional ends.
This new work by Andrew Kramer, directed by Nick Bazo, can feel a little heavy-handed at times with its message, especially in the second act’s wrap-up. However, it highlights immensely important questions that sparked an intense post-show dinner conversation with my companions.
The first act is set in a seedy motel, presumably in the middle of nowhere, USA. We’re given little background on our four main characters, who are reuniting for what seems to be an annual meetup. But knowing the play’s tagline—Vicious. Haunting. Shocking.—an absolute feeling of expecting the unexpected is established early on. Even Stephen Jones’ sound design and Ben Lowe’s lighting give the space an eerie sense of foreboding and unease.
I have to preface this review by noting that the character descriptions below are based on the first half of the play. Philip Lupo’s set design clearly delineates two very different locations, which play a crucial role in the unfolding story. A polarizing second half spins everything on its axis, demanding a lot from the cast—and they deliver in a big way.
Adonis Perez-Escobar, full of dramatic and emotional monologues, takes us on the biggest ride among the so-called “friends.” I use that term loosely because, by the end, you're left questioning their true relationships.
Casey Tregeagle plays the typical redneck character—but there’s nothing typical about him. A quick violence simmers just beneath his surface, setting his temper off at a moment’s notice.
J.M. Rousseau gets his moment of truth when real life threatens to invade the sanctity of the boys’ weekend. Through his character, we get a glimpse of how this time is used to escape the pressures of their responsibilities.
Rounding out the foursome, Adam Delmedico delivers a completely different turn from what we’ve seen from him on stage in the past. His character—a dominating and feverishly evil presence—slips on a little too easily, purposely making the audience squirm in several ways.
Oh, but wait—there’s more. Tall, thin, and sinewy, Bradley Cloversettle brings us the horror, in both acts. Though he says little in the first half, he more than makes up for it by the show’s conclusion.
There’s sex, violence, anger, frustration, and betrayal. And I’d be remiss if I didn’t warn that this play isn’t for everyone. Unfortunately, those who should see it most probably won’t be the ones filling the seats.
This is a commentary on inclusion, representation, and the need to be seen and heard by an industry that has long been blind and deaf to the LGBTQ+ community. The play also draws attention to how queer identities have been overlooked in the horror genre, often passed over in favor of more mainstream male/female couple dynamics.
There’s far more to unpack here than initially meets the eye, and it will spark conversation long after the final bows. I challenge all of you to seek out more theater like this. Initially, I was going to pass on this one, but I’m glad I caught it—and I think you will be, too.
Shows like this are necessary. These voices need to be heard—if you can handle the truth.
For more information and tickets, visit: https://rentheatre.com/