Art Duty
World Premiere Production by LakeHouseRanchDotPNG
By: Aaron Krause - Sep 29, 2025
Armed watchmen stand ramrod straight through extended, uncomfortable silences, guarding state-sanctioned art, as somebody nearby vomits loudly and profusely — yet the guards hardly lift a finger to help, for aiding him is not their job. When the silence finally breaks, graphic and vulgar language erupts — language so raw it might make you vomit, mirroring the coarsening of public discourse today. In this dystopian setting, suicide is not only normalized but expected.
This much is certain about Daniel Prillaman’s absurdist and disquieting play, Art Duty: it neatly reflects the zeitgeist. Indeed, it mirrors Trumpian America, a time when armed guards patrol the streets, confrontation feels commonplace, and hope seems scant.
At least in Samuel Beckett’s absurdist masterpiece Waiting for Godot, the characters wait for the mysterious Godot. But you won’t find such a glimmer of reassurance (however slight) in Art Duty, now receiving a commendable world premiere professional production by the absurdist, experimental South Florida troupe LakeHouseRanchDotPNG. The roughly 75-minute production, with no intermission, runs for one more weekend in Main Street Players’ intimate black box theater space in Miami Lakes.
The production, under LakeHouseRanchDotPNG Artistic Director Brandon Urrutia’s solid direction, stars talented performers Jeff Burleson, Marla Lopez, Luis Otamendi, and Michael Font. While Burleson and Lopez portray one character each, Font and Otamendi play multiple roles, displaying their comic skills and versatility.
Art Duty, which feels like a blend between Beckett and Monty Python, is plotless. It’s hard to identify a clear thematic through line, and we learn almost nothing about the characters. Further, they don’t exactly endear themselves to us with their behavior, making it difficult to care for them.
To appreciate a play such as Art Duty, you need patience and an open mind. First, it’s important to understand that the piece falls under the genre of Theater of the Absurd. This mid-20th-century style portrays human existence as meaningless, communication as futile, and life as bleak. In such a world — much like ours in 2025 — people struggle to find a sense of possibility, battling boredom and resorting to silliness to break the monotony.
Certainly, the humor in Art Duty relies on slapstick and low comedy. Consider, for instance, the scene during which a comic couple approaches the guards and comments on the art they are guarding. “I would let it f—k me,” one of them says. “I would have this art’s babies.”
The play also features rapid-fire exchanges that sound ridiculous; you feel as though you’re watching, perhaps, Abbott and Costello, Monty Python, or The Three Stooges.
Rich Lover #2: How many eyeballs are there in the world?
Rich Lover #1: Triplets.
Rich Lover #2: At least twice as many people.
Rich Lover #1: Quintuplets
Rich Lover #2: I want to taste an eyeball.
Rich Lover #1: What?
Rich Lover #2: What?
Rich Lover #1: Did you just say you want to taste an eyeball?
Rich Lover #2: Yes. I did.
Rich Lover #1: I know a guy. I could make that happen.
Rich Lover #2: Ah. I love you.
Rich Lover #1: I love you, too.
The rich lovers are among the minor characters. The leads are Tobin and Asher, two individuals somehow tasked with guarding a literally golden piece of state-sanctioned art. Little happens throughout the course of the play other than conversation between Tobin and Asher to pass the time of day and comedic antics from unwanted visitors. At the end of each scene, we hear a clock chiming. This sound effect (the sound designer is Alex Tarradell) suggests routine and monotony, reinforcing the characters’ bored existence.
In Art Duty, Prillaman touches on various topics, such as the nature and purpose of art and suicide. However, the playwright doesn’t dig into such themes in any detail.
At times, moments of silence fill the space, and you may grow antsy. This is when it pays to be patient and notice, for instance, the performers’ nonverbal expressions, which convey as much emotion as their spoken words.
The tense silence contrasts markedly with scenes featuring slapstick-style comedy. Appropriately, Urrutia directs the actors with an over-the-top raucousness that is invigorating and entertaining. To their credit, the actors demonstrate deft comic timing while fully inhabiting their characters, always remaining in the moment. The actors are comical, in part, because they fully commit to their roles, endowing their performances with sincerity. Understandably, during the reviewed performance, audience members laughed heartily.
Of course, underneath all the humor lies a grim reality. There is a good reason, for instance, why Tobin wears an eyepatch. It will likely shock you, although, strangely, the audience didn’t produce any audible gasps during the reviewed performance.
This production reinforces the show’s grimness through, for instance, dark-colored clothing (Erin Proctor designed the character-appropriate costumes). In addition, the set’s grim colors (grey and black) reflect the show’s seriousness. Speaking of the set, scenic designer Indy Sulliero designed the playing space. It’s a minimalistic design, with white splotches of paint covering greyish walls and black doors and ceiling, further reinforcing the darkness. At first glance, the purpose of the paint splotches might seem unclear. Could they, along with the white tiled floor, represent light and hope amid the darkness?
In the middle of the room, we see what resembles a refrigerator with shirts on top. The design doesn’t make clear whether this box-like structure is the art piece, or if the golden art piece is inside the box.
In addition to directing, Urrutia designed the lighting, which is mostly intense and realistic. At appropriate times, such as when the play touches on suicide, the lighting seems properly dimmer.
While white and darkness characterize the scenic design, the performances also feature contrasting colors. Burleson lends Tobin a no-nonsense grimness that at times grows into a threatening menace when he feels people are out of line. Burleson’s commanding performance calls to mind a strict commander in the military, although the actor also wisely injects his character with brief moments of charm and easygoingness. Perhaps such flashes of brightness represent hope for humanity in the stark dystopian world of the play.
While Burleson’s Tobin is a seasoned guardsman, Lopez imbues the younger Asher with a wide-eyed naiveté that suggests a newcomer. Also, Lopez, her dark eyes blinking at times, believably conveys nervousness, complete with a tense posture and tone of voice that suggests low self-esteem.
Otamendi plays it looser as a journalist named Leopold Caldwell, as well as a host of other eccentrics. Font, meanwhile, is constantly a comic delight. At times, he speaks in a scratchy loud voice and lends his characters an over-the-top eccentricity that consistently entertains us. With longish hair, mustache, and beard, Font is hard to miss and it’s virtually impossible to look away when he’s onstage. Font convincingly portrays everyone from a desperate and weak “vomiter” to a flamboyant “rich lover,” and a know-it-all critic.
“A world without critique is a world without critique. Have I made myself clear?” he says toward the end.
The author of those words, Prillaman, writes with clarity and a keen voice for absurdism. With Art Duty, he has penned a play that mirrors our troubled time, forcing the audience to confront the absurdity, discomfort, and dark humor of the world it reflects. The play offers no answers, no comfort — but it makes you watch, listen, and think, lingering long after the lights go out.
IF YOU GO
WHAT: LakeHouseRanchDotPNG’s world premiere production of Daniel Prillaman’s absurdist play, Art Duty.
WHEN: One more weekend through Oct. 5. Performances are 8 p.m. Friday and Saturday, as well as 2 p.m. Sunday.
WHERE: Main Street Players’ intimate black box theater, 6812 Main St. in Miami Lakes.
TICKETS: $20. Visit www.lakehouseranchdotpng.com/tickets/#/productions-view