You Can Find True West Behind the Indian Fry Bread Stand


Reviewed 11/27/05

As various smaller theatre spaces fall victim to tanning salons and upscale condos, it rests upon the theatre community to make spaces. The Sidewinder Actors Theatre's founder, Darylle Mak, a transplant from the harsher climes of Santa Fe, is dedicated to the idea that theatre is not a space, but a moment. Subsequently, after losing out on a space behind the Cave Creek Coffee Co. and having to push back her opening, the moment proved to remain in Cave Creek, but further East behind the Indian Village. Dropped between the Satisfied Frog and a rather loud biker bar, Sam Shepard’s True West couldn’t be any more appropriately mounted. Mak has moved its setting from L.A. to Cave Creek, and this battle to the death between society in the quaking body of Austin (Jeff Clevenger) and the lawless desert as represented by his hulking brother Lee (Jeff English) proves just as prescient today as it did a few decades ago. Sitting among a hodgepodge of differing seats in front of Ric Parrish’s impressively appointed set and alongside a welcome heater on Sunday night, Mak proved to be right about the moment.

Shepard’s two brothers are opposites. Austin cares for their mother’s house while she is vacationing in Alaska. He is pitching a romantic screenplay to shady producer Saul (Vince Reign). Older brother Lee, an uneducated drifter who takes after their shiftless father returns from the desert with a roar. He has lived off of his wiles and the winnings of his fighting pitbull. Later, Lee interrupts Austin and Saul’s negotiations and pitches an idea of a screenplay about the “real” west. Lee’s forced golf date with Saul angers the meek Austin. Each brother attempts to co-opt the other’s position with disastrous results, with the finale observed by their bewildered mother (Lynn Steinhurst).

Mak is a thoughtful director. Stage pictures are never accidental, pacing and pauses are carefully measured, and lines are delivered with the edge of understanding. Her fingerprints are all over this production, but they don’t seem to overwhelm the performers. Clevenger and English connect across the divide of their character’s differences. Clevenger seems a little more uncomfortable as the uptight Austin, wearing his stuffed shirt with hesitation and stumbling a bit unbelievably through his drunkenness. Still, when he and Clevenger spar, real sparks spit from their contacts. Clevenger is the real deal. He seems to have literally stumbled in from the deserts, and whether he’s drunkenly fixated or puffing his chest threateningly, I never doubt his connection with his character. Reign and Steinhurst support these two sparring partners efficiently. Reign is not a strong presence, but works well as a catalyst. Steinhurst shuffles into the scene with the weight of the world on her shoulders, and believably acts the permanent wince of her character’s fears.

While the set is attractive, Capstone Films’ lighting is a problem. Outdoor spaces are not especially conducive to strong effects, but the touchy controls of the dimmers on the ten instruments resulted in a very annoying flicker all throughout the show. John Fuller’s sound is full of stock effects and interesting music choices.