A dozen people gather at a little house near Front and South Streets. A pile of pots and plates waits in the sink. Though held up by a nearby murder, Brian Feldman is on his way to clean the dishes and cold read a monologue of the host’s choosing. This is Dishwasher, existential theater at its finest.

Upon arrival, Feldman inspects the kitchen and starts in with a sponge. It’s a casual affair: he asks the group some questions (“You hate theater?” “No, I review it.”). The host explains his collection of owl figurines and shares his experiences as Allen Iverson’s neighbor. Feldman talks about recent Dishwasher performances: one audience played Irish folk music as he cleaned the dishes; someone requested he perform the entire Vagina Monologues; another person wanted an Al Pacino speech from a bad Al Pacino movie. Tonight’s host has chosen the final monologue from Conor McPherson’s The Weir. The dishes complete, with drying help from a local celebrity quizmaster, Feldman takes a brief intermission and the host summarizes the preceding action of McPherson’s contemporary classic. Though he ignores advice not to attempt an Irish accent, Feldman captures the intimacy and haunting regret of the speech. He asks, and the audience agrees, unanimously: he’s a better actor than dishwasher.

[various locations] September 3-12, 2015; fringearts.com/dishwasher.