Reviewed 4/22/05
A letter in the program from Producing Artistic Director Michael Barnard is the first indication of the fear felt by Phoenix Theatre, a company that has firmly catered for the past few seasons to their rapidly aging season patrons. “This may be a challenging piece to watch.” Barnard warns in a classic understatement, “It is a compelling piece on the subject of prejudice.” This wonderful work from 1978 by Jim Leonard, Jr., a one-time playwright in residence at ASU, is the type of material one normally expects to be taken on by Actors Theatre or maybe even Stray Cat, not by PT under Barnard’s helming. I’m glad he did, but I was firmly in the minority on the second Saturday night. After an expletive-laced and sexually themed opening scene that establishes the groundwork for this memory play, Barnard’s fears were fully realized. After only ten minutes, a woman stood and strode angrily to the exit, followed by her more hesitant male companion. According to the House Manager, the patron was horrified by the inappropriate material and demanded her money back. This has been a common theme throughout the run thusfar. I rushed to the front at intermission on a hunch and counted 51 people who left. No matter the repercussions, I’m glad that PT stepped outside of its comfort zone. Of course, those repercussions may make it only a once-every-half-decade event.
That’s not to say that it’s a perfect production, but it is quite good. Director Harold Dixon has taken a memory play that avoids chronological order and he has over focused to ensure the audience is aware of approximately what time period each of the scenes takes place. Elizabeth Willow (Jenn Banda) is a victim of polio, and her confinement to a wheelchair in a small town in rural 1950s Indiana has made her an outsider. Her father (Mike Lawler) slaves at a deadening job while her mother (Maedell Dixon) fights to save her from misunderstanding and the world at large. The ensemble (Dion Johnson, Chris Vaglio, Kerry-Ann Brown, and Kamala Kruszka) portrays the members of the community that entice, abuse, and then abandon Elizabeth.
Dixon has paced the play briskly, allowing for some scenes
to dawdle in a rural fashion, but mostly rush forward as a jumble of memories
should. To ensure the audience knows where they are chronologically, he has
asked his cast to overplay their various ages in this 24-year long reminiscence,
and that is the biggest problem to an otherwise impressive evening.
This is one of Banda’s best performances, full of subtlety, longing,
and pain. She does not fall victim to the overcompensation of ages as much
as the others, and connects with those around her whatever her age and situation.
She hits the audience square in the eyes with her powerful pre-intermission
speech, and the realization of the finale is principally her triumph.
Lawler and Dixon make a great couple as her parents. Lawler avoids pathos and instead gives his Ben an everyday sweetness that makes his predicament that much more painful for the audience. Dixon takes her character’s paranoia and presents it in an understandable way. We are lulled into blaming her, just as the author intends. The ensemble overplays their roles of children in an over the top way. It is only when Johnson and Vaglio play teens and the four play adults that their performances achieve strength. The overacting of their children’s roles is more annoying than incisive, and that’s a big problem in an otherwise powerful evening.
Richard Farlow’s set is a thoroughly symbolic affair highlighted by an ominous representation of a house replete with crooked and dangerous looking stairs that stand between Elizabeth and freedom. It is so dimly lit by Nykol De Dreu as to seem perpetually night, but her choice of isolation lighting highlights the reflective nature of the piece. Cari Smith’s costumes capture Middle America in the 1950s accurately.
All I can say is “Give ‘em hell, Michael!” A lot of people may resist the rusty hinges of their minds being forced open, but it is a worthy effort. This is a very good production of a hard-hitting (albeit nearly 30 year old) script that should celebrate the fact that for every closed-minded patron that leaves, the light floods into the minds of four others.
