A Bite-Sized Wrench in the Machine: “Lunch Bunch”

(at table) Laura Hubbard as Nicole, Alex Leondedis as Greg, Parker Jennings as Tuttle, Cristhian Mancinas-García as Jacob, Michael (Shifty) Celestin as Tal, Paola Ferrer as Hannah, Julia Hertzberg at Mitra – Photos: Danielle Fauteux Jacques

Presented by Apollinaire Theatre Company
Play by Sarah Einspanier
Direction and Sound Design by Danielle Faeuteux Jacques
Scenic and Sound Design by Joseph Lark-Riley
Featuring: Cristhian Mancinas-Garcia, Parker Jennings, Paola Ferrer, Michael (Shifty) Celestin, Alex Leondedis, Julia Hertzberg, Laura Hubbard, Dev Luthra, Katie Pickett, Brooks Reeves

December 30, 2023 – January 21, 2024
Chelsea Theatre Works
189 Winnisimmet St
Chelsea MA, 02150

Content advisory: dialogue about diet culture

Review by Maegan Bergeron-Clearwood

CHELSEA, Mass. — Lunch Bunch feels longer than its snappy one-hour run time, and that’s very much a positive: the lives depicted onstage are so harried, so high-stakes, so existentially draining, that I left Apollinaire Theatre Company feeling as though I’d lived an entire lifetime.

On the surface, this deceptively bite-sized play by Sarah Einspanier is about the petty lunchtime politics of a group of overworked public attorneys. The titular Lunch Bunch is comprised of five coworkers who rotate through the task of preparing nutritious vegetarian meals for each other — a comforting system for folks whose days are otherwise inundated with bureaucratic red tape and disappointing phone calls. So, when they encounter a hitch in their routine and are forced to allow their two newest colleagues to join the Bunch, drama inevitably ensues.

Of course, Lunch Bunch isn’t actually about food. The true antagonist – an oppressively unbalanced legal system – is rarely spoken aloud, but constantly present: in someone’s eyes, between the lines of a conversation about cats, on the unheard side of a phone call. The brilliance of Lunch Bunch is Einspanier’s ability to write anxiety through subtext. It’s exhaustingly, hypnotizingly effective.

Apollinaire’s production, directed by Danielle Fauteux Jacques, crackles with this undercurrent of existential despair. Everything onstage breathes corporate apathy, from the nauseatingly bright orange walls and filing cabinets (scenic design by Joseph Lark-Riley) to the wilted-looking blazers and button-downs that the veteran attorneys wear.

Other than their wheely chairs, the ensemble has no props to indicate when they’re working or eating, and they rarely leave their tiny office space: whenever a character needs to check an email, cry in the coat closet, or otherwise disappear from a scene, they simply turn and face the wall, like a small child who has been punished for an outburst in class.

Photo: Danielle Fauteux Jacques

It’s an eerie visual metaphor: unable to leave their work identities behind, but also unable to meaningfully enact change beyond their office walls, the Lunch Bunch is trapped in bureaucratic purgatory. The hour-long run-time feels like a mere glimpse into Sisyphean eternity.

This isn’t to say that the play isn’t funny – in fact, most of the script is an attempt to distract from the characters’ reality, abundant in non-sequiturs and absurd ramblings, and it’s brought to life by an ensemble with commendable comedic chops.

Of particular note are neurotic junior attorney Nicole (Laura Hubbard), jaded but fearsome “queen” of the courtroom Hannah (Paola Ferrer), burnt-out millennial Tuttle (Parker Jennings), and seemingly cruel and unfeeling Jacob (Cristhian Mancinas-Garcia, who delivers a heart-wrenching monologue that’s not to be missed). It’s a joy to witness the ensemble work through minute moments of annoyance, conflict, despondency, heartbreak, and, ultimately, compassion and solidary.

Lunch Bunch is about the unsung heroes who live with an aching desire to – as Hannah describes it – be wrenches, rather than cogs, in an overpowered machine. But Lunch Bunch also about sandwiches, because sharing food with your accomplices is a revolutionary tactic, small though it may be, that we can always rely on.

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