The tagline for The Debate Society's latest deluxe little production, Buddy Cop 2, tells you a lot about their whimsical sensibility: "Nothing is what it seems. Or is it?" Set in the small (fictional) town of Shandon, Indiana in the early-'80s, the strange story revolves around a local police station, which was relocated to the recreation center after a devastating flood. As such, there is a racquetball court behind the makeshift office, where two of the cops (the titular buddies?) pass much of the time. Laura Jellinek's impressive set is a triumph of naturalistic detail, down to the prized collection of exotic beer cans seized by the cops during open container stops.
The Christmas decorations and piles of presents suggest an impending holiday, but remember: nothing is what it seems (except when it is). Buddy Cop 2 actually takes place in August, when everyone in Shandon is swept up in an attempt to boost the spirits of a young cancer victim named Skylar, who isn't expected to live past summer. So they bring Christmas to her; the radio station plays Christmas jingles, carolers make the rounds, cups of cheer are passed around the precinct house. And in several uncomfortable interludes, Skylar (Monique Vukovic) herself is wheeled out to deliver creepy monologues about the sinister man in the red suit coming to take her away.
Sequels are rarely as good as the original, and unfortunately Buddy Cop 2 lacks the transporting magic of The Debate Society's last enthralling production at The Ontological, 2007's The Eaten Heart. You keep waiting for the spell to take hold or the humor to gain momentum, and when it momentarily does—during Vukovic's amazing roller skating solo, or when the cops make it snow for Skylar—you're left frustrated that the rest of the piece feels so flat. Actor Paul Thureen, who co-wrote the play with fellow Debater Hannah Bos, is so intrinsically funny that just watching him teach racquetball to Bos is inexplicably hilarious. Maybe my problem is that their diffuse script is narratively insubstantial, and as terrific as Jellinek's set is, the actors (including the excellent Michael Cyril Creighton) seem a little cramped by it, often confined to talking head exchanges in profile. A naturalistic play inevitably creates an expectation for conventional narrative, but Buddy Cop 2's plot goes nowhere for most of its 90 minutes, while offering little in its place beyond Barney Fife mannerisms.
In previous productions, The Debate Society has excelled in mining the delicious subtleties of awkward moments, while also creating startling new worlds out of pure imagination. Part of the fun has come from watching Bos and Thureen portray multiple characters, dashing off stage as one person and immediately reemerging as someone entirely different. Here they're the same sad sack cops from beginning to end, which would be fine if their relationship developed significantly throughout the evening. But their association is barely worthy of the term "buddy," and the play's focus keeps shifting to the cancer-stricken girl, whose disturbing soliloquies make it difficult to transition back to the quirky '80s cop milieu. In the end, Buddy Cop 2 does deliver on its tagline—nothing is what it seems, while some of it is exactly what it seems: a bewildering slice of life in a provincial police station, where nothing much happens, no matter how much you wish it would.
