Awe Inspiring, But Without a Catharsis


Reviewed 6/5/04

It all starts on stepping into the Little Theatre. It is then that one first encounters the greatest set Nearly Naked Theatre has ever created. T.J. Weltzien has transported us to ancient Mesopotamia in grand fashion. This two-story temple with flora and waterfall would be the envy of some professional theatres. Expectation is raised that Director Damon Dering will once again make magic of the type that marked his now-legendary production of Equus. However, Andrew Ordover's Gilgamesh is a reinvention of an epic tale of Gods, Demi-Gods, and common men, not of psychological mysteries. Dering's experimentation is perfect in relation to the grandness of this work. He includes a Greek-style chorus to propel the tale along, music with a Sumerian flair (excellently penned and performed by Michael Bradley), puppets of various types, impressive poi dancing (by Eva Richards), and a presentation style that matches the breadth of the piece. Somewhere along the line, though, a very important element has gone missing: the emotional connection. This is a dazzling and enlightened production of an intelligent work that explores the emotional issues of companionship, compassion, life, and death, and yet it never allows the audience the ability to feel any of the topics it considers. They are completely awed, but never remotely touched.

Gilgamesh (David Weiss, picutred right ) is two-thirds God and one-third human. As the ruler of Uruk, he has created a safe city, but his urges toward conquering make him a restless and dangerous King. Answering the prayers of his people, the Gods Shamash (Cale Epps) and Enlil create a counterpart for Gilgamesh: the beastly Enkidu (Barry Finnegan, right), raised by animals but tamed by Priestess (Quetta Carpenter) of Ishtar (Jenn Bemis) to become a balance of compassion and natural common sense. Together, Gilgamesh and Enkidu defeat evil in its various forms, but when the fickle Gods conspire against the duo, Gilgamesh goes on a quest to get answers about the point of it all.

First consider everything that is right with the production. Dering revels in experimentation. Nothing is sacred or carved in stone. Incanting of action by the chorus is soon followed by their ironic commentary. Elements of reader's, classical Greek, and musical theatre are intertwined. The actors are committed to their characters to the point of abandon. Weiss is consistent and finds a way to bring life to his heroic creation. Finnegan is even better as the animalistic Enkidu, finding ways of bringing out his upbringing that are rather reminiscent of pets. Epps and Bemis are impressively God and Goddess-like. The ensemble (Stephanie G. Birdwell, Carpenter, Daniel Gallai, Franc Gaxiola, Dion Johnson, Clayton Peterson, Richards, and Rebecca A. Siegel) is perfectly balanced, with each getting a few characters to enhance the story. Dering's pacing is never laconic, and his staging is often clever. The choices he devises for such characters as Gatekeeping Scorpion Man and Woman and forever-living Utnapishtim and his wife are tongue-in-cheek masterpieces. The technical elements of the production are generally great, from Shawna Quain's remarkable choreography through Jay Templeton's costumes and masks to Erik Michael's expressive lighting.

With a list like this preceding, one wonders what is wrong. One consistent problem is in the recitations of the chorus. No one is ever in synch, and the group needs a Chorus Master in the style of Greek theatre that could help to conduct the group in a more comprehensible way through their many incantations. But more than this one technical problem, there is the simple fact that Dering has done too good a job in experimentation and presentationalism. The result is a thorough distancing effect that allows no one to truly empathize with those onstage. The closest in connection is Finnegan, whose endearing performance as part man/part spaniel is cute, but it's hard to sympathize with someone who takes so long to go to sleep, no matter how funny the activity. As for the rest of the cast, Bemis and Epps are too distant, Weiss is too emblematic, and the chorus member's roles are too fleeting to create a visceral moment.