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• "Killer Joe" is filled with trash, but far from trashy

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Trailer trash has never taken such a literal form. Piles of trash line the interior of the dilapidated trailer. Old plastic bottles, empty Budweiser cans, cereal boxes and torn magazines litter the floor. The entire thing looks as if it has been lightly toasted, a black soot covering over everything inside.

Tattered furniture sits in the living room, surrounded by a barrage of only the classiest décor – troll dolls, a ZZ Top poster, a cloudy lava lamp and heaps of assorted clutter. A longhorn rack hangs on the wall, a beer can crushed onto one horn and an orange hat on the other. The tiny kitchen table is surrounded with metal folding chairs. Another animal head in the kitchen dons a plastic-billed visor. Hanging door beads mark the entrance to the back of the trailer that is hidden from view. The Lone Star flag hangs proudly near the door. Outside, an upturned bicycle, chicken coop fencing, an old funnel and a crushed, deflated basketball marry with the additional piles of garbage that surround the trailer. The scene is set at Krannert Center for the Performing Arts’ Studio Theater for "Killer Joe", a play about a white trash Texas family and their efforts to kill off the former wife and mother of their family unit.

The inhabitants that fill the scene are not much better than their surroundings. The Smith family themselves are a sorry bunch. Chris Smith is probably the most presentable; his camouflage hat, white wife beater, open button down shirt, jeans and cowboy boots soaring above the rest of his family’s appearance. His father, Ansel Smith, spends the first scene in nothing but a dirty, loose pair of tighty whiteys, dirt covering his hands and feet. Ansel’s second wife, Sharla, emerges from the back bedroom in an over-sized jersey. That’s it. Without even completing her ensemble with a pair of underwear, she opens the door to the knocking and yelling and cursing of her stepson and baring her business without a thought. Dottie, Chris’ younger sister and Ansel’s daughter, when not sleepwalking in her pajamas, sports an over-sized sweatshirt with holes, sweatpants and tattered high top Chucks.

The only character in the play who seems to have any innocence left in her, Dottie steals the first act of the show. While all of the actors did a fantastic job transporting the audience to their world, Anastasia Pappageorge, currently working toward her BFA in acting at the U of I, shines as she brings Dottie to life as the awkward, childlike woman of twenty. Dottie’s blank stares and fumbled stammering give the impression that she is dense and slow. She is inexperienced and naïve – revealing at one point that her only boyfriend was a secret one who did not actually know they were dating. How she has stayed so pure in her environment of drugs, sex, constant cursing and an apparent callousness to murder is a mystery. As dumb as Dottie seems, however, she always knows more than is expected of her. Every time she convinces others (including the audience) that she might not understand the schemes going on around her, she abruptly reveals that she knows exactly what is happening.

A story of plotting murder and rank with domestic disturbance should not be funny, but in this case it is. The absurdity, and yet maintained reality, of the characters is laughable. The relationship between Ansel and Sharla, especially, serves to entertain. Their constant, hilariously authentic marital bickering cannot help but inspire laughter. In one particularly entertaining scene, Sharla primps herself for work. She poufs her hair carefully in the front, secures it with a red scrunchy and seals the deal with a healthy dose of Aquanet hairspray.

But, with all of the comedic fun of this insane bunch, there are moments in the story where the pains of the characters seem very real. In the midst of an awkward dinner date between Dottie and Killer Joe Cooper, the detective and part-time killer who Chris Smith hires to kill his alcoholic mother, Dottie tells the story of when her mom tried to kill her. Dottie was not wanted, so her mother tried to suffocate her in an attempt to rid herself of the burden. The following minutes between Joe and Dottie are sexually charged, coercive and awkwardly intimate. One feels like one should not be in the room to witness the encounter at hand.

In the second act, Sharla, played by first-year MFA acting candidate Monica Lopez, outshines the rest. Everything from her mannerisms and the way she holds her cigarette, to the way she spreads her legs out while wearing a skirt not caring what she exposes or to whom she exposes it, perfectly embodies the character she portrays. Her snarky comments and annoyed attitude brings out laughter, while her tortured screams and sobs horrify.

The small cast of "Killer Joe" makes the play a big success. Each actor delivered a noteworthy performance and helped to transport the audience to their trailer trash world. The character of Joe Cooper was menacing and deranged, Ansel Smith was hilarious as the simple hick who cares more for his Playboy and what’s on television than the serious problems his family has and Chris Smith was a great as the protective, hotheaded older brother. The scene setup, as well, was spot-on. Even the warning to the audience to turn off their cell phones had a southern drawl. This play is not for the faint of heart - the cursing, sexual, bloody atmosphere may not suit everyone. But, if one can stomach it, then Killer Joe will not disappoint. An hour and a half spent in a dumpy old trailer was never quite so enjoyable. From its comedic start to its jaw-dropping ending, "Killer Joe" resuscitates the lifeless stage.