(out
of )There are very rare moments in theatre when everything is simply perfect. Everyone is in synch. The designers have it pegged. The director has found the flow of the pacing. The actors have become their characters, rather than playing them. The script is without a flaw. An audience member is absorbed into the world of the play, and feeds on that energy. Sometimes, this experience is overwhelming, and the sheer power of everyone's perfection is nearly too much to bear. That is the feeling I had while sitting in the Lyceum Theatre tonight, as I was watching, enjoying, enduring, and experiencing Lanford Wilson's powerful, somewhat autobiographical play, Lemon Sky. I know it's an old and tired cliché, but I mean this with all sincerity; if you are only going to see only one show this year, this must be the show. Perfection this powerful is sadly fleeting, and ends this coming Sunday.
Mr. Wilson is the center of a semester-long celebration of his
and Marshall W. Mason's ongoing, decades-long collaboration, and
this is the first of three shows that the ASU Department of Theatre
will produce this Spring. Next up are Balm in Gilead, and
Mr. Wilson's latest play, which will be given a staged reading
directed by Mr. Mason. Taking the turn of directing this current
production, a stylized and theatrical review of a teenager's turbulent
times when sent to San Diego to live in his estranged father's
house with his step family, is the gifted Victoria Holloway.
Ms. Holloway is to be lauded for her nearly choreographic pacing
of this wonderful script, which weaves between the present and
the seemingly idyllic 1950s, and includes many times when the
actors must narrate their own situations, fully aware of the audience
for whom they perform. She weaves the dialogue and action masterfully,
giving the show a quick and defining pace that helps to heighten
its emotional effectiveness. There are moments when character's
onstage must commit a horrific act, or offer a pathetic lie, and
at the same time, must address the audience about this situation,
and the overlapping and emotional bantering that is a trademark
of Mr. Wilson's work is done in such a way as to minimize losing
any of the crucial commentary and dialogue. The conversational
and the theatrical are blended here to magnificent effect.
Not all of the ovations belong to Mr. Wilson and Ms. Holloway,
though. The assembled cast is truly wonderful, and can handle
this difficult-though-rewarding script in a way that makes it
look easy, a stunning feat. At the center is Ken Matthews
as Alan, the 17 year-old who moves from Missouri to San Diego
to work and go to college. Mr. Matthews has a lion's share of
the work to do, and his uncanny ability to easily move between
action and commentary is wonderful. Mr. Matthews does an amazing
job at creating the necessary sympathy and pathos for his character.
His father, Douglas, convincingly and connivingly played by Oscar
Giner, always manages to retain a skewed moral sense and self-justification
even as his actions belittle him in the eyes of the audience.
Ruth Reid's stepmother, Ronnie, is performed with much
dignity and semi-forced bubbliness. The audience is emotionally
torn in two as the play proceeds and she acts and reacts in deference
to what will be best for her two boys. Nina Miller and
local playwright and actress Trista Baldwin are simply
wonderful as two wards of the state that Douglas and Ronnie have
taken into their home. Ms. Miller's lost girl, Carol, ironically
full of life even as she's slowly leaving it, is performed with
a wonderful irony and smug self-realization. Just as powerful
is Ms. Baldwin's mousy Penny, who balances Carol perfectly and
collapses in an utterly believable and poignant way. Finally,
Douglas and Ronnie's two boys, Jack and Jerry, are excellently
performed by real-life brothers Seth Jason Wiener and Philip
Craig Wiener.
On a stage dwarfed by giant-sized picture postcards of the mountains
surrounding San Diego, hovering over a stylized 50s kitchen and
living room, Jeff Thomson has captured the perfect environment
for this familial tragedy. Paul Black's lighting is pinpoint
accurate, often creating pools of light that serve to separate
the characters, even as they are interacting, highlighting the
fracturing of this group. Katherine Stephenson's costumes,
and Peter M. Weisman's Sound Design were also flawless,
and helped to raise the stakes of the evening. Congratulations
also go to David Barker for his short but overwhelming
fight choreography, which was intensely violent yet perfectly
in tune with the production. Finally, Cat Dragon's properties
were well-chosen, from Alan's beat-up suitcase to the little boy's
laundry with one sock missing.
This play was a powerful moment for me personally. The last ten
minutes of the show, which to this point had been merely spectacular,
tipped the show into the realms of perfection. I found the critical
side of myself smiling at the absolute wonder of this theatrical
presentation, even as the pure spectator side of me was crying
from the horrific onstage actions. Not since the Arizona Theatre
Company production of The Illusion a few years ago have
both sides of my brain been this intensely moved. Please see this
show. It maybe a few more years until this kind of perfection
once again occurs on a Phoenix stage.
Production Details:
Lemon Sky by Lanford Wilson
ASU's Department of Theatre
The Lyceum Theatre, Tempe
(602) 965-6447
February 26th - March 14th, 1999