“The Marriage Zone” – 905 Cole Avenue, Hollywood
July 27, 2025
By Chris Cassone cc@chriscassone.com
The first five minutes of The Marriage Zone feel like any number of marital comedies: Beth and Cal, a comfortably numb middle-aged couple, volley barbs back and forth so crisply you almost forget you’re in a theater. Their passive-aggressive digs—about throat clearing to fixing an uneven table—are pitched with such authentic resignation that I was ready to reach for my phone. Then the doorbell rings, the Twilight Zone chord hits, and suddenly their twenty-something selves crash the party to challenge every assumption they’ve made.
Writer-director Jeff Gould’s premise riffs on A Christmas Carol and It’s a Wonderful Life—but without tinsel or sleigh bells. Here, Scrooge (Cal or Beth) meets their spirited younger selves and older selves who confront the wisdom (or lack thereof) of youth. We watch three iterations of the same couple—green, settled, and seasoned—spar over the timeless questions of passion, fidelity, and regret. From the playful flirtations of newly engaged love to the jaded survival tactics of old married life, the play dissects how choices echo across decades.
Middle-aged Beth and Cal (Kelly DeSarla and Anthony Backman) anchor the show with seasoned comic timing. Backman’s Cal is a walking sigh—part teddy bear, part curmudgeon—while DeSarla’s Beth flutters between exasperation and longing in a performance that balances humor with heartbreaking honesty. Their big revelation—when a sudden crisis peels back years of armor—lands with real emotional heft, transforming bickering into bonding in a heartbeat.
Young Ellie and Skip (Cassidy LeClair and Ben Scattone) burst onstage with a heady chemistry. LeClair’s Ellie is all bright eyes and bravado, while Scattone’s Skip is an eager romantic whose earnest declarations will have you reminiscing about your own first love. Their unabashed physicality—constant entwining of their loins, disappearing into the kitchen, and even more risqué moments—provides a delicious contrast to the buttoned-up restraint of the older pairs. When the middle-aged and elderly versions try to shut down that youthful exuberance, the resulting comic uproar is irresistible—and then, like a wave, nostalgia washes over everyone so that even the crankiest onstage can’t help but join in the yearning.
Elderly Liz and Mike (Tudi Roche and Corbin Timbrook) bookend the trio. Roche infuses Liz with world-weariness that tips into wry humor, while Timbrook’s Cal is a portrait of sweet resignation with a side of harrumpf. They mumble about creaky joints and “kids these days” until Gould’s script allows them a moment of epiphany: that life’s regrets are best tempered by forgiveness. Their slow-burn thaw—sparked by the exuberance of youth—is a testament to Gould’s knack for blending laugh-out-loud wit with genuine emotional stakes.
His rapid-fire dialogue crackles with pitch-perfect comedic beats. One highlight: as the three women descend on the eldest Mike, they deliver the show’s best punch line: “You’re breakin’ my balls—in 3D.” It’s so absurdly specific you’ll laugh long after you leave.
Under Gould’s confident direction, the pacing never stalls. Scene transitions flow with the ease of a dream, and the actors play off each other with a trust that feels lived-in rather than rehearsed. The audience response ranged from uproarious laughter to hushed sniffles—a testament to the play’s skillful blend of comedy and poignancy. Anthony Backman’s set—a monochrome living room bathed in muted greys and soft mauves—feels both timeless and surreal.
At roughly 75 minutes (no intermission), The Marriage Zone jets by with wit, heart, and a dash of cosmic irony. By the bows, you’ll find yourself reflecting on your own “zones of marriage,” wondering whether you’d take your younger or older self’s advice—or at least laugh if you tried.
Rating: 4½ stars
A clever, warm-hearted reminder that if we won’t learn from our elders and our youngers, we’re doomed to re-bicker the same old arguments—again and again- or never sustain the love you started out craving.