"Demonology": Milking office weirdness and the male psyche

The Seattle premiere of "Demonology" is noteworthy on two counts.

It is the inaugural production of Next Stage, a new troupe in residence at Richard Hugo House. And it is the only theatrical production in memory that has the stamp of approval of La Leche League.

Yes, you read that right. La Leche League — an organization that promotes the benefits of breast-feeding.

Given what goes on in "Demonology," the backing of La Leche (complete with lobby display) makes sense. Sort of.

This pointed but overextended and at times tedious satirical comedy with a feminist slant, written by Kelly Stuart, unfolds in the corporate headquarters of a company that makes baby formula.

A pretty office temp at the place, Gina (Maggie Brothers), surreptitiously takes breaks to pump milk from her breasts for her own infant. When this comes to the attention of Gina's very tightly wound boss, Joe DiMartini (Alex Samuels), the psychic moo juice starts hitting the corporate fan.

It seems Joe has a bad case of the heebie jeebies about everything going on at this shadowy company. The constant sexist and raunchy comments of his colleague, Skip (Benjamin Harris). The feared, unseen maneuvers by the company's top bosses.

With all that, though, "Demonology" is essentially a study in male hysteria and paranoia in relation to female power — and female fecundity.

As Joe's fears mount, so do his own unresolved, infantile yearnings for a succoring mama.

The psychology in "Demonology" is fairly shallow, but the play cleverly references corporate espionage and the travails of working mothers with slacker husbands. It also swerves amusingly into mythic terrain, as Joe's fevered imagination turns Gina into a goddess of procreation — and conjures up the apparition of a taunting, pig-tailed demon child (Teri Lazzara).

There's a none-too-subtle message here about how men demonize women and project their neuroses all over them. All Gina really wants is to impress her betters and get a decent job. But her every move in that direction sends Joe into an Oedipal tizzy.

Under artistic director Mark Jared Zufelt's hand, Next Stage's mounting of "Demonology" is choppily paced and eventually tiresome. That's the fault of the script, as well as the tempo. Divided into too many bite-sized scenes, the play's variations on the basic theme get loopier but not much funnier. And instead of building to a crescendo, they just pile on.

Too bad the show can't fully exploit its best performance: Samuels' high-wire portrayal of Joe.

His eyes darting behind horn-rimmed glasses, his suit buttoned up too tight, Samuels draws on a remarkably extensive vocabulary of twinges, cringes and recoils to communicate Joe's classic Freudian sexual repression. Eventually, the guy looks ready to jump out of his skin — or the nearest office window.

Joe's terrors play out in a generic "glass cage" office, designed by Michael Mowery. Aptly mundane, the locale reminds us that in most corporate settings, the privacy needed to plot coups — or just to pump breast milk in peace — is at a premium.

Misha Berson: mberson@seattletimes.com