By Mariah Reed
Pompano Players has unearthed a sparkling treasure in Jessica Provenz’s Boca, a wickedly fun comedy set in the sun-soaked retirement community of Boca Raton, where a band of New York transplants refuse to act their age, trading rocking chairs for a second shot at their wild teenage years.
The 90-minute presentation through March 22 is jam-packed with hilarious scenarios, including “Silver Alert,” where the wonderfully defiant Iris and Louise make a break for it in a Tesla to exotic and alluring destinations SeaWorld and Key West, and “Stay, Please,” where the newly widowed Bruce finds himself dodging the relentless advances of yet another determined widow wielding her finest casserole like a weapon of seduction.
But Boca is not all laughs. There are deeply poignant moments of vulnerable reflection woven throughout, none more quietly devastating than “The Playoffs,” in which Marty, brought to breathtaking life by a masterful Ben Prayz, bares his soul as he mourns not only the baseball career that slipped through his fingers, but the father who never believed it was worth catching.
Equally, if not more, affecting is “Blind but now I see,” a luminous monologue in which the radiant Francine Birns, as the quietly determined Susan, takes us on her deeply personal journey from the shadow of serious illness into an almost defiant embrace of life’s beauty, leaving the audience reminded that sometimes it takes losing everything to finally see what matters most.
Director Joseph Zettelmaier once again proves his singular gift for making us fall in love with every character on stage. His ensemble moves effortlessly between expert comic timing and genuine heartache, inhabiting relationships so complex and believable that their longing for adventure, companionship, and relevance feels like our own.
Birns radiates warmth as the resilient Susan before turning deliciously calculating as Deann, a morally ambiguous condo commando with her eye on the Board presidency. Barbara Bonilla is an absolute hoot as the adventure-hungry Louise, later pivoting with aplomb to the uproariously desperate Elaine, a woman who will stop at nothing to reel in the newly widowed Bruce.
Prayz brings a depth of character and precision of timing to his roles that lingers long after the curtain call. As the curmudgeon Marty, a man trapped in a spite marriage, he is utterly convincing. His bitter, vengeance-driven condo board member Stan is brilliantly, comically impotent, and as Robbie, Prayz masterfully walks the razor’s edge between marital resentment and genuine tenderness for the very same woman driving him mad.
Lissa Richey rounds out this powerhouse ensemble with terrific comic timing, breathing life into the spirited Iris of “Silver Alert” fame before transforming into the quietly desperate Janet, a lonely widow willing to compete for consideration of her best friend’s husband’s “future wife.”
Every technical element sings in perfect harmony. Sound and light cues land with precision, propelling the action forward with infectious energy. Penelope Williams’s costumes are Lilly Pulitzer-perfect, Elizabeth Guerra’s props are flawlessly on point, and her work as Assistant Director is clearly effective. Scenic designer Kat Davis has once again worked magic with a deceptively simple set that effortlessly evokes the sun-drenched world of affluent South Florida while enabling scene changes so swift they feel like sleight of hand.
And none of it comes together without the steady, unsung hand of Production Manager Chris Taylor, whose behind-the-scenes coordination helped unite an extraordinary constellation of talents into one gloriously cohesive whole.
In a world where running out of stevia qualifies as a humanitarian crisis, Boca dares to ask something far more profound: what if growing older was never meant to mean growing quiet? These wonderfully vivid characters (funny, flawed, and fiercely alive) flatly refuse to accept society’s whispered suggestion that they should simply fade gracefully into the background and be grateful for what once was. They still hunger for love, adventure, and purpose, and they find it not in some far-off dream, but right where they already are, nestled within a warm and welcoming community that embraces them wholly, quirks and all. Here, neighbors become family, laughter is the common language, and no one is ever truly alone.
And in reaching for more, these irresistible characters remind the rest of us that hope doesn’t have an expiration date. In the end, Boca is not just a comedy. It is a triumphant, full-throated celebration of the audacious, beautiful, unstoppable business of being alive.
Boca from Pompano Players runs through March 22 at Pompano Beach Cultural Center, 50 W. Atlantic Blvd. Performances 7 p.m. Friday-Sunday, 2 p.m. Saturday-Sunday. Tickets $55-$65. Contact: www.pompaobeacharts.org/events/boca; 954-501-1910
Mariah Reed is an Equity actress, produced playwright and tenured theatre professor.
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