Reviewed 4/30/04
Anthony Burgess' darkly satirical 1962 novel A Clockwork Orange grows more scarily true-to-life each day that passes. This look at disaffected youths committing what was considered at the time horrifying violence in response to a neglectful society and rigid government reads more like a news report today. The slang that he created for this world, much of it of Russian derivation, was his vision of the natural movement of socialist governments in the West. The book comes with a glossary of those words in the back to which a reader refers often while reading the first quarter of the novel. However, as you are immersed in this cold and dangerous world, the language becomes poetic and easily recognizable. Stanley Kubrick's 1971 screenplay (co-written with Burgess) was a flawed gem, capturing the creepiness of the original work but keeping the audience at arm's length with Kubrick's trademark distancing, while also sticking with the American editor's inexplicable choice of cutting the final chapter from Burgess' original work. I have been second-guessing how Ron May of the cutting edge and exciting Stray Cat Theatre would bring this ultraviolent work onto the stage. Who could play the loquacious and sexily dangerous Alex? How would he stage the bloody fights, the graphic rapes, the equally horrific "reinitiation" the government uses to reprogram Alex's violent tendencies? I always believed May would find a way, and I was right to be confident.
May has been incredibly faithful to the original work while coming up with imaginative ways (in concert with the brilliant fight choreographer David Barker) of representing the "ultraviolence." There's very little use of stage blood in this evening, but what there is has been well placed and is intensely powerful. The cast is not perfect, but they are committed to the vision of May's creation, and to that end, this creation is as strong an alternative production as you'll find this season. Barker and May's fighting is a derivative of the Hong Kong Martial Arts Film School, with intimations of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and The Matrix Trilogy, while the choice made to represent the sexual molestation is the most brilliantly disturbing image I've seen onstage.
While it is May who must be given the greatest congrats, Jonothon Howard's performance of Alex is very strong. Initially, his speeding through the difficult and foreign phrase-infused dialogue seems worrisome, but he embodies the character and makes his vocal affectations understandable. How well does he do this? My wife, who had never read the book or seen the movie, was able before intermission to understand the language nearly completely, and much of that can be chalked up to Howard. We feel his love of violence and domination; we empathize with his love of music, even as we are repulsed by the images it brings to his mind. He is as loveable a reprobate as you will find. His "droogies," fellow gang members Pete (Rob Soper), Georgie (Robbie Wildes), and Dim (Tom Leveen), are not quite as distinctly drawn, though Soper's transformative character arc is well performed and Leveen's brutishness is effective. Heather Harper's performance as the ravished wife in the definitive rape scene is painfully believable and heart wrenching, while Benjamin Monrad plays her husband with conviction. Scott C. Jeffer's work as the prison chaplain is true, while Sarah Michelle Unkefer is pure caricature as the government's Minister of the Interior.
The set is dark, stark, and techno, effectively lit by Randy Braunm. Justin DeRo's costumes are extravagantly perfect. Monrad and Kevin Vaughan-Brubaker's sound design is a loud and moody creation that is integral in setting the mood of the evening.
This is not everyone's cup of "Milk-Plus," but for those who like their sweets bitter and their violence ultra, this is the kind of alternative theatre piece that should be thriving and happening more than just once a year. It's not perfect, but it's a rare creation for the valley, and that makes it important that everyone give it a chance. Let Stray Cat know that theatre audiences want more than yet another upbeat musical revue, and can handle a bit of thinking.
