‘Immovable Beast’ @ Ochre House Theater

Photos by Trent Stephenson

—Jan Farrington

Ochre House Theater founder, artistic director, and playwright Matthew Posey quite literally “Trumps” his own dark 2025 satire Moving Creatures with Immovable Beast, a wildly inventive re-telling of his tale of a repulsive old tyrant ( narcissist and sociopath Baron Leopold McDoogal, played & directed by Posey himself) who is rapidly ruining his once beautiful, safe, happy country—and the lives of as many citizens as he can grab by the body part of his choice.

This time, though—in what you could call Posey’s “director’s cut”—the ladies he’s captured, tortured, etc. are organizing for a retribution tour…and yes, it’s definitely a show for grownups.

Let me catch you before you say “eww, no”—to add that Posey’s story is bloody good fun, visually stunning, and filled with inventive and tuneful songs from cast member/composer Polly Maynard (and brought to life by music director/composer Matthew McNabb).

Special effects include old-school silhouette scenes behind a white curtain, projected snippets of “No Kings” marches on the walls, and a Latin lover (the always-welcome Omar Padilla in fine form) sailing by now and again, clinging to a delicate air balloon. Also, there’s a well-used stage turntable that expands the sense of space and physical energy in the show (I’m becoming a major fan of these contraptions), not to mention the dance/movement possibilities.

The Baron despises the people of the country, and could care less if the crops fail and the children starve (“No one cares about the children,” he says). His own (departed) mother (Maynard again) rants at him from a charming picture frame on wheels, but the Baron, tall and oily in red velvet robes, is sure that however horribly he behaves, the people will absorb it and soon “go back to their normal lives.”

A trio of desperate women capture and keep our attention. There’s Shithouse Hattie (Maynard), Murderous Maive (Cassie Bann), and Perilous Pearl (Lauren Massey), who is terrifyingly handy with the knitting needles when Hattie goes to bits and pieces—and needs to be (more or less) put back together. (The ensemble’s thick Scottish accents are truly impressive, though at times as hard to wade through as a bowl of haggis. The simple name “Pearl,” for instance, is drawled out to “Pair-lll.” Rudy Lopez is Jack Clabber, who pops out to deliver narrative and comments so juicily accented as to leave us clueless—but his expressions are fab. Hoot mon!)

But back to the three women, augmented at times by knife-wielding Stabby Abby (Esperanza Scott), one of the band musicians just offstage who jump verbally or physically into the action. McNabb’s keyboardist/accordion player Bampot McGregor rises up as if to fight the Baron, but sticks mostly to insults—and the trio of players, filled out by Aaron Gonzalez on a resonant bass, makes the most of their musical “score" for Maynard’s songs.

By the end of Act One, the Baron still seems firmly seated on his tacky throne, though even there he gets no peace: this is a talking chair you need to see to believe. His waning health is tended to by the yodeling Dr. Björk Tökkle (Ben Bryant), who seems willing to try anything (however gross) to keep his master alive and kicking—though there are hints he might be thinking of jumping ship.

Confused? Never mind, the fine cast’s eccentric and bravura performances will carry you through, as will the creatives behind them (Ryan Matthieu Smith’s insanely clever costumes alone could keep you mesmerized, and the delicately gold-lit set and imaginative floor painting from Kevin Grammer and Izk Davies is quietly fascinating). Shake out Polly Maynard’s grab-bag of startlingly good tunes and clever lyrics, which to my mind carry Immovable Beast into a different realm altogether—and this becomes a show that will stick with you.

At the end, a face-off between cast and audience asks a serious question, not in so many words, but here’s the gist: It’s been grand fun, this crazy show—but what do we do in the morning? Ochre House has given us two hours “off,” turning our national problem into startlingly fine and off-beat theater…but we still have an Immovable Beast to deal with.

WHEN: May 13-30, 2026
WHERE: 825 Exposition Avenue (outside Fair Park), Dallas
WEB: ochrehousetheater.org