mspt@goldfishpublishers.com
Reviewed 1/27/04
When
is the last time a production whose set includes only ten music stands
stationed before ten stools engrossed an audience
at ASU’s Gammage
Auditorium? No giant plunging chandeliers or chorines on roller skates
wearing rail cars on their heads. Rather, the music of Jessica Blank and Erik
Jensen’s (pictured right) stark (tran)script of those wrongly
convicted of crimes surviving and escaping death row is the balance of fear
and hope
in
each of
the revealing monologues
charting their descent and rise. The Exonerated is
apolitical: it is not a rant against capital punishment, but rather an observation
of the flaws of
our judicial system and an unspoken plea for reform. The touring company that
has traveled to the valley of the sun features political activists Mia
Farrow (below left) and John Savage (below right),
but this is an ensemble piece with a collection of strong actors who bring
to life
the
gut
wrenching
stories of six people trapped in
a broken system.
Blank and Jensen have carefully crafted their story exclusively
from the interviews, tapes, transcripts, and letters of those unwittingly
ensnared, as well as the
loved ones who supported them, and those in the system who allowed for these
travesties. These are all original words, not fanciful accounts. It is the
brutality of the railroading and treatment mixed the strength of their desperate
hope that comprises the drama of the evening. Save for Savage, whose presentation
of the wrongly labeled murderer/homosexual Kerry Max Cook is full of hesitations,
missed cues, and constant references to the script before him on the music
stand, the remaining nine performers are their characters, well-directed
by helmer Bob Balaban to capture their roles from their
specific accents to their
quirky physicalizations.
Dennis Burkley and Philip Levy are
charged with portraying a myriad of characters, most the bullying police
or uncaring
officers of the court who mindlessly
rush these innocents to their intended doom. These two are masters at rendering
very specific characters for each of their parts. From the lilting Texas
twang
of a wrongheaded prosecutor to the melodious drawl of an angered Florida
highway patrolman, Burkley and Levy, set apart from the remaining ensemble
on platforms
to stress their station, don and shed their characters fluidly. Steve
Brady plays Gary Gauger, who was accused of killing his parents,
in a disarmingly easygoing way. Julia Gibson plays both
Gauger’s Midwestern accented
wife and the eventual southern accented wife of another of the group with
the ease
of a schizophrenic. David Brown, Jr. is full of quiet
power as former horse trainer Robert Earl Hayes, while Chad L.
Coleman’s portrayal of a
religious David Keaton is haunting. Seated center and playing both a victim
and a poetic
narrator, William Jay Marshall’s political activist
Delbert Tibbs is a voice of insight beyond the horrific stories. Heather
Simms plays
a myriad
of roles with gusto and self-assurance. Finally, the other marquee name,
Farrow is able to go beyond the potentially hippy-stereotype of Sunny Jacobs.
Sunny
is a victim many times over of the Florida justice system, having been
arrested and convicted with her husband of murdering two highway patrolmen
and spending
sixteen years awaiting justice. Farrow gives Jacobs the kind of cheerful
outlook and quiet resolution that has the audience empathetically clinging
to her.
It is a performance full of quiet strength that is as fresh as it is assured.
While there is no set to spark wonders, the unbilled lighting and David Robbins' minimal and well-placed sound effects add to the power of the evening. This is a polished production that is not set to draw tears from its audience. There is no pandering here, no tugging at heartstrings. This is an evening of education, of learning that, while the American justice system is still one of the best around, it is one created by humans, and remains fallible. We need to be reminded of these things, and this is a powerful evening of theatre in the retelling.
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