I’m interested in new, creative
theater more than rehashed favorites, so a challenging new play by an
unfamiliar, award-winning playwright sounded exciting. Geva’s production in a
stop-and-stare setting stars an actor I’ve admired here before. But it’s all
disappointing.
Race of the Ark
Tattoo by W. David Hancock pretends to
be a flea market sale. Stripped of its stage trappings, the Nextstage is filled
with a bizarre collection of junk that one Mr. Phinney Jr. encourages us to
walk through and examine, maybe to buy something. After we’re seated, actor
Brian O’Connor, now playing Foster, Phinney’s foster child, tells us about that
peculiar enthusiast who collected and sold the junk. He walks among the
audience, carrying a topless toy van containing little numbered oddities from
which he asks us to choose one piece. That’s the gimmick: Audience members will
determine the order of the “lectures” that explain the background stories of
the things they pick out.
Along the
way, Foster also cheerfully tells us about his terrible life: how, but not why,
his father abandoned him; how he was mistreated, lost his wife, and other
miseries.
The title
refers to a tribe of marooned Vikings — one of the many symbolic images from
Foster’s stories. He consults a scrapbook of “story cards” that are numbered to
correspond to the numbered pieces of junk. His resulting dialogue is full of
wry, often witty, and even poetic elements. But, despite his neutral tone and
all the deadpan humor, the tales are mostly ugly or depressing.
Mr. Phinney
told him that larva are implanted into the brain to eat intrusive matter, also
that if one leaves the windows open at night the soul of the house escapes and
by morning it is a vacant lot. Foster’s own stories include one about Claire, a
classmate who adopted a stray cat, which mischievous schoolmates skinned and
hung in her locker wrapped in pages from a dirty magazine.
There is a
kind of thematic throughline about adoption and care of foster children and the
awful things we can remember about people whom we nonetheless care for. But it
comes out amorphous and unpleasant. And in the opening performance, whether
from Sean Daniels’ direction or O’Connor’s lapses, there were inexplicable long
pauses throughout.
Credit
Ethan Sinnott with an unforgettable set design and O’Connor for enough personal
charm to keep the proceedings relatively cheerful. But this very short play was
too long for me.
Great Expectations by Robert
Johanson brings Charles Dickens’ rambling novel to the stage with surprisingly
vivid understanding. And in an evident labor of love, John Haldoupis directs
and designs it to play briskly and movingly.
The Blackfriars production is the
farewell performance of octogenarian Elaine Good, a highly regarded Rochester
actor who is moving to be nearer family. In the iconic role of Miss Havisham,
the rich old spinster we see in her decaying wedding dress among the remains of
her aborted wedding banquet, Ms. Good is ideally cast and gives an
unforgettable performance.
But Miss Havisham is no more the
center of the novel than the equally boldly drawn character of Abel Magwitch, a
huge, menacing convict who also affects the life of Pip, the character with the
mysterious “great expectations.” Unrecognizable in the getup and accent of
Magwitch, Blackfriars regular Ken Klamm is also memorable and perfectly cast.
The most difficult role, however, is
Pip, who undergoes the most changes in situation and stature and also narrates.
Benjamin C. Wilson rises to the role’s challenges admirably. His delivery of
Pip’s emotionally inspired final speech clearly moved the opening night
audience.
Haldoupis gathered an entirely
excellent large cast for this production. Three young boys — Jeremy Ehlinger
as Young Pip, J. Taylor Monfort-Eaton as the Pale Young Man, and Mitchell
Phillip Canfield as both the tailor’s boy and later Joe’s son — are first
rate. Ehlinger, like Marguerite Frarey as young Estella, is remarkable in an
extended, significant role. And Monfort-Eaton is priceless in his deadpan
routine and slapstick falls.
David Jason Kyle’s lower-class
English accent is occasionally hard to understand, but his manly Blacksmith,
Pip’s “friend for life,” is heartbreakingly affecting. Dina Rath makes the cold
Estella touching and convincingly desirable. Vicki Casarett’s strong Mrs. Joe,
Pip’s older sister, becomes scene-stealing after a disabling injury. H. Darrell
Lance makes kindly law clerk Wemmick so
absorbing that Wemmick and David F. Runzo’s lordly Jaggers deserve a play of
their own. And James Caito transforms the subordinate role of Pip’s London
roommate Herbert Pocket into a memorably bright, likable person. And in
additional roles the large cast do themselves proud, as do the designers and
many other backstage artists.
Haldoupis’ framework and panels
covered with print from the novel and a half-circle of Roman numerals might
seem a pretentious setting. But cleverly lit by Nic Minetor and enhanced by Ron
Heerkens Jr.’s sound and projection designs, it moves the action all over with
economy and absolute clarity. The painted panels are moved around to change
settings, and projections on the see-through curtain and suggestive set pieces
show us everything from Miss Havisham’s decayed mansion to a fight between
small boats at sea.
Race of the Ark
Tattoo plays Tuesdays through Fridays
at 7:30 p.m., Saturdays at 5 and 9:30 p.m., and Sundays at 3 p.m. through
March 20 at Geva’s Nextstage, 75 Woodbury Boulevard.
$12.50 to $25. 232-4382, www.gevatheatre.org
Great Expectations plays Thursdays
at 7:30 p.m., Fridays and Saturdays at 8 p.m., and Sundays at 3 p.m. through
March 26 at Blackfriars Theatre, 28 Lawn Street, $20 to $22. 454-1260, www.blackfriars.org
This article appears in Mar 9-15, 2005.
