Comedy ‘The Food Chain’ a hearty meal of obsession

Nicky Silver's comedy "The Food Chain" is playing at the Onyx Theatre through April 4. (COURTESY PHOTO)

Nicky Silver’s comedy “The Food Chain” is about more than anxieties and how we handle them, whether we obsess and turn to compulsive behavior. It’s just as much about where and how we fit into society.

Director Sarah O’Connell skillfully leads this cast through the depths of the human psyche. She’s mined every ounce of humor and still makes us seriously consider the broader picture.

You’ve heard of a triumvirate, a trio of powerful people? This is a quintumvirate — five talented actors chewing up the scenery of the small, intimate stage at the Onyx Theatre. In what could easily fall into surface physicality, they bring fully realized, three-dimensional characters to life.

From rages to soft insecurities, and everything in between, Diana Osborn plays Amanda Dolor with an abandon rarely seen on a community level. For as much as she pretends to have overcome it with her words, the former high school heavyweight peeks through. When she calls a hotline for help, even if our own frailty isn’t a weight issue, we do more than sense her angst. As Osborn delivers this character, we connect with her struggle.

Anita Bean brings quick-witted, somewhat acid-tongued hotline operator Bea to quirky life. She gets the funny lines in the first scene and delivers them with deadpan panache, hitting her target every time. A look over the rims of her glasses delivers a punch line without words. When Bean shows up at the apartment in the last scene, she delivers the whole comedic punch.

We’ve all known a Serge Stubin at some point; the stud who knows it and takes full advantage of the fact. Aaron Barry primps in front of a mirror with such finesse, even as he’s trying to get rid of a fixated fan, that we have to laugh. If we found fault in the performance at all, it might have been his obsession with keeping his robe closed. But through perfectly timed double takes and delivery Barry lets us know his too-hot body is the concern fueling the behavior.

Stephen R. Sisson takes on a Gilbert Gottfried vocal quality and grabs us from his first offstage line. When he makes his appearance, we think the way the character has coped is apparent. Yet he manages to convey there’s more to the story than a thing for Serge.

Rounding out the cast is Robert Kalnak as Ford Dolor, a man of few words who finds himself caught up in the foibles of others. Kalnak uses his body to tell his story. With a single word, delivered with wrenching confusion in his voice, he gets the laugh. Just when we believe he’s the only one with nothing to be fretful about, a single expression crosses Kalnak’s face, travels down his body, and it becomes perfectly clear.

The floor crew deserves kudos. They transform Troy Heard’s terrific modular set from living room to studio apartment and back again without stalling the momentum of the play.

O’Connell and cast have served up a hearty meal of obsession. Go and devour your anxieties through laughter.