What makes a perfect idiot? Perhaps, it’s his blundering ways, his penchant for making the worst out of any situation, or maybe, it’s just simply who he is. Boardwalkers’ An Idiot for Dinner , directed by Michael Muthu, introduced the audience to quite a few, but none as pronounced as R. Golden Gopu, the matchstick model maker.
The story opens with Sanjay Kelavkar desperately looking for an idiot to invite and show-off at a dinner — a regular ritual among his friends. “It’s actually quite the manhunt, but we’ve got scouts to tip us off,” explains Sanjay. One such scout helps him meet Gopu, and Sanjay immediately realises, much to his delight, that he’s found a star idiot. Sanjay invites him home, showing interest in Gopu’s matchstick models, to get to know him better. Only, by the time he arrives, Sanjay manages to sprain his back, owing to a golf swing gone wrong and is stuck with Gopu, who turns out to be a master of goof-ups. And now, try as he may, Sanjay is unable to get rid of the well-meaning, but annoying idiot.
Sanjay writhes in uncontrollable pain, drinking himself into a stupor and watching his life slowly fall apart — his wife leaves him, his ex-girlfriend insists on visiting him and he manages to invite an income tax raid. And he grudgingly reveals, even as Gopu attempts to mend all that he has ruined, that he has single-handedly managed to vindicate all the idiots he’s ever made fun of.
The play, which is a stage adaptation of the French film Le Diner de Cons , unfolds as a comedy of errors, filled with slapstick humour and local references. It is a simple comedy and attempts to do nothing more than get the audience laughing. And it does so with earnest ease. What makes it endearing, however, is the chemistry between the lead actors (Gopu and Sanjay), and the quirks of the supporting ones.
Shravan Ramakrishnan, in the opening scene, made for a memorable and adorable idiot, and set the tone for what to expect from the remaining actors. Sarvesh Sridhar gave an immersive performance so believable and relatable, that it became hard to remember that he was anyone but the loveable idiot Golden Gopu even off-stage. Gokul Anand, as the frustrated Sanjay Kelavkar, put on a grand show which went above and beyond as his eyes glazed over in pain and anguish painted his face due to the antics of Gopu. Vidyuth Gargi, as Sanjay’s friend Rohan Thomas, looked the part of the drunk and dishevelled writer who was trying not to be too amused at the misfortunes of his friend, though his performance lacked punch. Amit Singh, on the other hand, put on a stellar show as the auditor Hariharan, and kicked up the humour quotient from the minute he made an appearance.
The stage at The Museum Theatre looked a little cramped for all the props that decked it, and the set changes were a tad clumsy, with minor technical glitches interrupting the rhythm of the play. But none of that mattered because the troop put on a solid show and left the audience in high spirits.
