Two Plays at Lenox
David Begelman
Question: what do Joe Penthal’s Blue/Orange and Tom Stoppard’s Rough Crossing have in common as dramas?
Answer: nothing much. The former is a serious play about two psychiatrists who
clash over the treatment of a mental patient; the latter is a comedy about a
group of zany theater people who, aboard a steamer with its share of nautical
kinks, squabble over the production of a musical. The ship is a heaving vessel forcing
passengers to retain their precarious balance on it by careening to and fro on
deck in order to avoid falling flat on their faces.
On
the other hand, both plays utilize the considerable talents of three actors:
Jason Asprey, who plays a fledgling psychiatrist in one play (Bruce), and a
hilariously wry playwright with a proclivity for the well-timed quip in another
(Alex); Malcolm Ingram, who plays a smug and nerdy supervising physician in one
play (Robert), and a haughty actor exuding pseudo-suavity in another (Ivor);
and LeRoy McClain, an agitated psychiatric patient in one play (Christopher),
and in the other, an off balance waiter with a genius for script writing and an
appetite for slugging down cognacs on the slightest pretext (Dvorncheck).
The
surprise is that you’d never know each of these actors performed in both plays.
This speaks volumes about the individual talents of the three, and there is something
to be said about acting skill as the degree to which an audience fails to
realize that it is the same person in separate roles. Mr. McClain in particular
may be extremely funny wobbling across the deck in Rough Crossing, tray in
hand; he was stunningly charismatic in Blue/Orange
as a black psychiatric patient whose problems are compounded by the conflict
between his two supervisors. Mr. McClain’s performance oozed reality out of
every pore. For this reviewer, his was not only a memorable portrayal, but
possibly the finest one of the entire season at Lenox.
Other actors in Rough Crossing included Bill Barclay (who designed the sound for
this season’s Antony and Cleopatra,
and is a multi-talented resource for the company) playing Adam Adam, a composer
who has one hell of a time avoiding pratfalls and getting a sentence out past a
stutter that seems to last forever before giving up; Elizabeth Aspenlieder, in
the role of a somewhat dotty and histrionic actress no one could possibly
confuse with Greta Garbo because of her thick Slavic accent (she also does
double duty as Public Relations Director for Shakespeare & Company); and
especially Jonathan Croy, who turned in a jewel of a portrayal as another
playwright whose exasperated appeals to his performers to get it right sends
him into paroxysms of frustration. All performers in Tom Stoppard’s play
delighted an audience that greeted the comic moments on stage with belly laughs
and standing ovations at the exuberant curtain call. Sheer hilarity. So much
for the immensely talented casts. What about the plays themselves?
Mr. Penthall’s Blue/Orange deserves to be seen because of the importance of the
issues it broaches. The writing on occasion becomes a bit talky or preachy, especially
when characters make forays into psychiatric philosophy. Despite this, the play
does confront issues that are profound and multi-layered. They include ethical
questions arising over treatment approaches to patients; the problem of racism
in psychiatry; and the problem of ascertaining truth. Momentous to be sure,
such issues cannot be digested en masse
without spreading oneself too thinly. Mr. Penthall’s play accordingly runs the
risk of biting off more than it can chew.
It contrasts with the sharpened focus we find in plays about the
treatment of black persons by Anthol Fugard, the masterful South African
playwright. All the same, the
theatergoer would benefit from exposure to Mr. Penthall’s spin on some fairly
controversial topics.
The two British psychiatrists in Blue/Orange, sometimes seem lost in a
time-warp. They both have diagnosed their patient Christopher as
“schizophrenic” and as having “borderline personality disorder,” apparently
unaware that these two diagnoses are inconsistent for the same set of symptoms.
And practitioners today might insist that the first order of business in a case
of a patient who, like Christopher, sees oranges as blue (an image borrowed by
Mr. Penthall from the French surrealist, Paul Eluard) is a neurological, not
psychiatric determination. Possible brain malfunction of a diagnosable kind should
be ruled out before a psychiatric disorder is even considered. And for someone
suspected of “loose associations,” Christopher certainly has one hell of a set
of dialectical skills keeping his shrinks off balance.
Contrary to both Mr. Penthall’s psychiatrists, being delusional does not by
itself make Christopher “schizophrenic,” and his agitated behavior and
grandiose thinking (he imagines he is the son of the tyrant of Uganda, Idi
Amin) may be an expression of bipolar disorder. Ironically, in the past it was
British, not American psychiatry, which retreated from overdiagnosing
schizophrenia, a fad on this side of the Atlantic.
Robert
insists that “delusions” are created only through a cultural filter that biases
our treatment of others, including black patients. The viewpoint has a sixtyish
flavor. While cultural biases exist, they are hardly a basis for a wholesale
rejection of the reality of a psychiatric disorder. Nor does the difficulty of
determining a defendant’s guilt in court mean there is no such thing as murder.
Finally, “neurosis” is a term that is currently bereft of any diagnostic
utility, included though it is in the glossary of terms in the playbill that
figure importantly in the play.
Rough Crossing is a playwriting escapade
that is a sea change from Tom Stoppard’s mesmerizing Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead. The writing gets rougher toward
the end of the play when the shenanigans on board the steamer betray a glimmer
of tedium, and the humor starts to trade a delightful Noel Coward/Cole Porter-style
repartee (even the set could double for a production of Anything Goes) for the slapstick antics familiar in the farces of Georges
Feydeau. Even so, the comedy has the audience at Shakespeare & Company’s
Founder’s Theater virtually falling off its seats. Especially noteworthy are
several of the song and dance numbers, culminating in a rollicking piece
involving all cast members at curtain call.
All
in all, if a playgoer were afoot for experiences that were intellectually
challenging and side-splitting fun, then Blue/Orange
and Rough Crossing fit the bill
extraordinarily well. This reviewer had the pleasure of seeing them both in one
day, in his opinion a satisfying recipe for taking the wind out of the sails of
customary griping over daily tribulations.
Blue/Orange runs from July 5 through
September 2; Rough Crossing from May
25 through September 2 at Shakespeare &
Company, 70 Kemble Street, Lenox, MA 01240. Tickets can be purchased by calling
the box office at (413)-637-1199.
No comments:
Post a Comment