The troupe’s new show partners with Regan Linton for a word or three about disability in theatre.

In its latest new work, Buntport Theater’s usual gang of five is joined by Regan Linton in a bizarro-world take on Tennessee Williams’ memory play The Glass Menagerie. In the original, the character of Laura is partially disabled, and that element is amplified tenfold in The Menagerist.

Linton, the former artistic director at Denver’s disability-affirmative Phamaly Theatre, takes to the stage in her wheelchair to portray Laura — as well as the actor portraying her in a series of rehearsals for a production of The Glass Menagerie. The conceit running through the script is that disabled actors are often pigeonholed in a narrow set of roles or, worse yet, disabled characters are played by abled actors.

While most Buntport shows are created and performed by the core group — Erik Edborg, Hannah Duggan, Brian Colonna, Erin Rollman and (off stage) SamAnThat Schmitz — they do occasionally partner with other artists. With Linton, they found the perfect collaborator for a play about disability and theatre — not to mention a fine actor to inhabit the role.

The action is centered around a continuous replay of a scene in the original where Laura receives a “gentleman caller,” played here by the ever-versatile Colonna. Edborg is Laura’s brother Tom, who acts as narrator while sporting a thick layer of T-shirts — each with a message of sorts about the next scene. Duggan, often the biggest presence onstage in any Buntport show, takes a bit of a backseat here as the mother Amanda.

(L-R) Erin Rollman, Hannah Duggan, Brian Colonna, Regan Linton and Erik Edborg in ‘The Menagerist.’ | Photo: Gail Bransteitter

Having the most fun is Rollman, who portrays one of the glass figurines in Laura’s menagerie. As the prized unicorn doomed to have its horn broken off by Jim, Rollman is the life of the party in a white bodysuit and unicorn floatie.

Buntport is never shy about in-your-face stage action, with inventive lo-fi effects, props and costumes to illustrate its comedic productions. That’s all part of The Menagerist, and there are indeed plenty of laughs along the way. But while the message about creating legit opportunities for disabled actors on stage and elsewhere is an important one, the repetition of that message is, well, repetitious.

Somewhat reminiscent of last year’s 125 No’s — where a Hollywood tale of Green Garson taking that long to get a one-word line just right — Menagerist is an exploration of a theme with many takes. The risk is always in taking something like this too far, and this one simply goes on for too long. At times it dips into screed territory, with the disability message being hit so many times that it loses impact.

Since the focus is only on the one scene with Jim, it doesn’t get into how disability representation has (or hasn’t) evolved. Had the script not been so married to the framing device of the repeated scene, there may have been more opportunities to expand on those questions while mixing up the action a bit. As the show inched past the hour mark, I found myself eyeing Edborg’s torso to see how many shirts he might have left under there.

For a theatre as lean, inventive and courageous as Buntport, I’m always willing to overlook some rough edges. There’s no doubt The Menagerist touches on some important questions not only for disabled actors but others who may not fit preconceived notions related to age, race, gender or whatever else. Combining all that with comedy is a lot to take on, and the execution isn’t quite there. But for admirers of the theatre, it still contains plenty of those Buntportian elements that keep fans coming back for more.