Below the Belt
Tribe Theatre, 403 NW 5th, 227-3976, Fri-Sat 8 pm, Sun 2 pm, through October 30, $10-15

In an intimidating warehouse space on the outskirts of the Pearl District, a new arts organization is making a go of it. A fusion of art gallery, café, concert stage, and theater space, Tribe, to say the least, is ambitious. And, as evidenced by its second full-scale theater production, Richard Dresser's Below the Belt, Tribe, in contrast to its Burning Man-ish name, has good taste.

For many, the workplace feels like a prison; in Below the Belt, it may actually be one. When corporate drone Dobbitt (Ian Hanley) gets transferred to an overseas location, he finds himself in a desert compound with guards patrolling the premises, a polluted river running through, and terrifying creatures skulking in the wilderness just beyond fences. "I don't think we can leave here," he tells his surly assigned roommate Hanrahan (Scott Skinner). "Sure we can leave," replies Hanrahan. "We just have to get past the guards."

Belt is loaded with such hilarious tidbits of illogical logic. In one scene, Dobbitt brings the brooding Hanrahan a Danish, who violently interprets it as a vicious attack. Another scene, my favorite, involves a hilariously pointless, extended argument following the duo's manager Merkin's (Robert Bonwell Parker) decision to start summoning Hanrahan to his office with two intercom beeps instead of one. "I had that single beep for nearly a year!" roars Hanrahan, "that beep was mine!"

The genius of Dresser's characters is that they are largely aware of the absurdity of themselves and their situation, and director Micah Sunshower Klatt and his cast are wise enough to play things straight. The set design and scene transitions are clumsy, as if Klatt is still learning the space, and the closing moments feel painfully awkward and unfinished, but he's got a good grasp on the text's dark irony and nuance. And believe you this: in a town where DIY sensibilities and poor arts funding give way all too frequently to mediocre "original works," the decision to simply pick out and pay for the rights to Below the Belt, a sophisticated, cutting-edge script from an established playwright, feels downright inspired.