Many shows boast that they offer something
for everyone, but how many can say they offer nourishment for
the mind, body and soul?
As unlikely as it sounds, playwright-performer Ed Schmidt’s "The
Last Supper" accomplishes just that, with a heady mix of
theater, comedy, religion and food. Yes, food – the playwright
prepares a four-course meal for the audience during the performance.
Which is only fair, since you’re sitting in his kitchen.
The evening starts off with a hymn – Schmidt has installed church
pews, complete with hymnals, in his apartment to accommodate
his numerous dinner guests – and the atmosphere is very much
like that of a religious service, an impression only reinforced
by a reading from the Bible.
But things quickly veer in unexpected – and frequently hilarious
– directions. Schmidt is setting the proper mood for the performance
of his play, "The Last Supper," a re-imagining of the
most famous dinner party in history (complete with a betrayal
by a small-time hood named Judas).
Schmidt, who plays all the parts himself, draws the audience
in with his good-natured charm, only to interrupt himself repeatedly
with amusing asides and convoluted explanations, all delivered
with terrific comic timing. He almost toys with his audience,
probing the limits of what they will and will not believe.
Turns out this faith thing is trickier than it appears.
"I’ve always found that fascinating, the notion of what
you believe as an audience member, whether you will suspend your
disbelief," Schmidt says as he relaxes briefly after a recent
performance. (There are still a lot of dishes to do.)
Dressed casually in a gray T-shirt, white pants and sneakers
– he’s still in costume – the performer smiles happily as we
discuss the events of the evening, which culminated in a clever
coup de theatre (which I won’t divulge here).
Schmidt entertained and fed 25 people that night, who chatted
happily as they ate the delicious meal together, and waited eagerly
for Schmidt to join the party so they could ply him with questions
about the performance.
The show originated in Schmidt’s home in Park Slope, with audiences
entering through his basement, and word-of-mouth led to packed
houses. But success has its price: Following particularly flattering
write-ups in GO Brooklyn and the New York Times, overwhelming
demand forced Schmidt to relocate "The Last Supper"
to this larger Chelsea apartment.
Schmidt enjoyed performing the show in Brooklyn for a year and
a half – "I liked the idea of all these Manhattanites coming
out to Brooklyn like it was this exotic place," he says
with a laugh – but opportunity beckoned across the water.
"I miss doing the show in Brooklyn, but coming to Manhattan
has allowed me to seat twice as many people," he says. Performances
are still very intimate affairs, however, with a maximum seating
capacity of 30.
Schmidt makes the most of the friendly setting, constantly interacting
with his audience, responding to comments directly, even pulling
a member or two up on stage, i.e. the space around the island
in the middle of his kitchen. There don’t seem to be any boundaries
– performer/audience, theater/religion, fact/fiction – that Schmidt
isn’t willing to ignore.
"I’m tweaking every single theatrical convention,"
he notes gleefully, "even the conventions of the program."
Indeed, the program is hilarious reading, particularly when Schmidt
lists prestigious theater companies who have rejected his submissions,
or when he expresses his non-gratitude to the public institutions
and private corporations that have not provided financial support.
"Most people pass right by that little thing about the funding,"
he says, grinning mischievously, "because they think, ’Oh,
I’ve seen that a million times,’ and they don’t read it."
This could be tricky territory, playing fast and loose with audience
expectations, especially where religious themes are involved.
But Schmidt handles his material so deftly, and with so much
intelligence and wit, that people are rarely offended.
"I’ve had the Catholic priest who married us, I’ve had several
rabbis, seminarians [at the performance] – and basically everybody
is fine with it," he says. After all, this is a performer
who is brave enough to sit down and break bread with his audience
after every show.
Mostly, the audience goes home well fed and well entertained.
On the way out, almost everyone stops by to shake Schmidt’s hand
and thank him for a wonderful evening. For his part, Schmidt
seems to be genuinely enjoying himself. He’d have to be, to keep
slaving over a hot stove, weekend after weekend, while a mess
of strangers invade his home.
Schmidt’s attitude is typically good-natured: "I’ve created
this dinner party where I can actually be comfortable, which
is pretty great."
"The Last Supper" plays Friday
and Saturday nights at 7 pm in the playwright’s apartment, 154
W. 27th St., #4W in Manhattan. For reservations, call (718) 499-7758
or tix@thelastsupper.info. Suggested donation: $50-$75.
