Last night, Josh and I headed over to the Rendezvous' Jewel Box Theater (I told him we were going to a secret William Gibson reading) to see A Fistful of Flowers, a touring play by the Baltimore Annex Theater.



The opening act, a recent Seattle transplant who calls herself Julie Unpronounceable, played a sweetly oddball solo folk-rock set, complete with a sad song about a lonely toaster.

"A Fistful of Flowers," which was billed as a gender-bending western, is about two cowboy ex-lovers trying to kill each other in the desert. It features: Talking cacti; a gay trucker; a female actor as his boyfriend; a throat-singing, goggle-wearing Indian soothsayer; a landscape filled with treacherous "banana rocks;" a sneaker used as a gun; a Darth Vader tattoo; and an iPhone that sets off a bomb.

I can't say I followed every plot twist---at times, there was so much going on (including audience participation---at one point, I found myself lying down onstage after Josh refused) that I had to sit back and just let the psychedelia wash over me.

But despite the chaos, there weren't many moments when I wasn't entertained. It's weird little plays like this one that deserve a wider audience, which is exactly what I hope it's getting on the BAT's ongoing multi-city tour.
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