Sick puppies of ‘Killer Joe’ will shock you

The College of Southern Nevada's production of Tracy Letts' "Killer Joe" bumps along happily and crazily, hinting that some kind of violent act awaits you at the finale. But my guess is, you won't be able to predict exactly what that act will be. The ending is so surprising and gruesome and right that you can't help but laugh -- although you may find yourself ashamed for doing so.

Letts introduces a loony, dirt-poor Texas family ladened with just about every kind of deviance you can think of. We begin with the young Chris (Alex Olson) trying to figure out a way to kill his mother for the insurance money. It gets nastier after that.

Letts has fun in taking perversions to their extreme. You enjoy wondering how these sick puppies are going to shock you next.

Director Shawn Hackler understands Letts' delightfully sick humor. Best of all, he and the cast have achieved something near miraculous: They get us to take this family seriously.

T.J. Larsen, in the title role, comes across as an efficient accountant who deals with murders instead of numbers, yet you feel the rage beneath the civility.

Olson, as Chris, combines ignorance, coldness and a genuine desire to try to learn to do the right thing. The actor is blessed with the ability to make dialogue sound as if he were making up words on the spot.

Joe Hammond is sadly hilarious as the seemingly strong patriarch. When he loses control of his family, you pity the sap, even while you belly laugh.

Mary Foresta, as a scheming housewife who makes the mistake of thinking she's smarter than she is, seems the epitome of every dimwit who doesn't realize how easily others can see through her.

And Jamie Carvelli, as Chris' sister, invents a character that is perplexingly innocent and peculiarly smart. Carvelli quietly inhabits her role in a way that doesn't call attention to the skill required to do so.

Steve Mathews' lighting -- rich in shadow and silhouettes -- adds to the play's urgency and visual beauty.

Hackler doesn't go far enough in exploring how the American "evils" of television, drugs and capitalism have helped make this family all things rotten. But he has breathed sanity into a gorgeously insane play.

Anthony Del Valle can be reached at vegastheaterchat @aol.com. You can write him c/o Las Vegas Review-Journal, P.O. Box 70, Las Vegas, NV 89125.