Home ‘truthiness’
By Mark Langton
Ross Valley Players' production of "Brooklyn Boy" - a somewhat thought-provoking, occasionally nuance-layered and, at times, well-crafted evening of community theater - is, well, a little dull.
Now, I am a critic of a certain age, born in the '50s and therefore presently admitting to being 50-something. I am just old enough to have an appetite for well-written, ponderous dialogue, but just young enough to have had my attention span permanently ruined by MTV.
The result: I suffer from a kind of mixture of narcolepsy and Tourrette's, in which I bore and nod off easily, only to be awakened suddenly by my own curses and mutterings.
Such was my struggle to engage with "Brooklyn Boy," Donald Margulies' thoughtful take on a familiar homecoming motif, the ties of family and the vagaries of success, which plays through June 15 at the Barn Theatre in Ross.
And while I applaud the intent of any company or director who will take the risk of attempting a difficult work that is not an immediate ticket-seller - for their courage alone - alas, this one kept losing me to its sluggish pace, its uneven cast and its playwright's absurd "Hail-Mary-play" ending despite the skills of its award-winning director, Phoebe Moyer.
The play opens as Eric Weiss (Matthew Lai), a newly successful novelist and self-described "escape artist," is returning to the outerborough of his childhood to visit his dying, long-widowed father (Jerry Jacob of San Rafael). The visit leads to a chance meeting with Ira (Timothy Beagley), a childhood friend, who confronts Eric about the way he wriggled, Houdinilike, from the chains that bound him to his old neighborhood, friends and faith. (Not coincidentally, Harry Houdini's real name was Erich Weiss).
There follows a bittersweet bid at reconciliation with Nina (Robin Steeves), his estranged wife, causing Eric to look inward even further. We then find him in Hollywood, where a reading and book signing leads to his bringing a chippie named Alison (Allison Kinzy Porto-Yale of Kentfield) back to his hotel room with unexpected results.
Next, he meets with the over-the-top Melanie (Safiya Arnaout), the crass woman producer in charge of the movie version of his novel, and the popular but ludicrously unsuited actor Tyler Shaw (Joseph Rende), who wants to star in it.
Right from the top, something seemed amiss Friday night. The opening scene between Eric and his father appears written to be played as broad comedy of the Borscht Belt variety, and is not. Many opportunities here were missed, and Jacob's lackluster delivery set a monotone from which the play never quite recovered.
Things did pick up when Beagley entered the scene as Eric's old friend Ira, but despite his much-needed comic energy, this scene, too, suffered from a lack of ethnicity (I don't know if Beagley is Jewish, but I suspect he is not, since no healthy, red-blooded Jewish boy would ever -- as Beagley did Friday night -- mispronounce the word "shiksa,” the Yiddish term for a non-Jewish female).
The scene between Eric and Nina, which begs for an undercurrent of long-lost intimacy - sexuality, even - was painful to watch at times because of the actors' lack of chemistry, and an overwrought performance by Steeves worthy of "The Days of Our Lives." Set changes went on far too long for a minimalist set (designed by Ken Rowland in abstentia). How long could it take? How many Ninjas does it take to move a chair?
A couple of performances do stand out, however. Along with Beagley's energetic turn as Ira was Rende's WASPy actor Shaw, so comfortably over the top he could have gone even farther, as well as Arnaout's cartoonish producer Melanie – all provide welcome laughter. But the performance that lights up the night is Kinzy Porto-Yale's Alison - who could so easily have resorted to a caricature with this not-quite airhead and not-quite groupie. Instead she played Alison as written, with irony and intelligence, making her authentic and complex.
In her brief comments before the show, Moyer- a triple-threat teacher/actress/director - acknowledged the need for a strong Eric to pull off this play and praised Lai as a rare find. She described him as young actor of an old school, a generous actor who "listens" and is true to speaking and responding the way people do in life instead of relying on “actorly” tricks to relay moments of theatrical truth.
This was not my experience of Lai's performance. Unless by “generous” the director means he surrendered every scene he was in to whoever was up there with him, making each scene a showcase for them. He's a likeable enough sort, and plays Eric as a kind of "Every-nebbish" with no discernable arc or strength of resolve. To be fair, he carries a tremendous line load - he is practically never offstage - but shows none of the beleaguered strength one might find in, say, Adam Arkin, who opened in the role on Broadway in 2005.
The simple poetry found in ordinary lives has never been lost on me. I just didn't find it here. And sometimes the way people really speak and respond to each other is boring.
Thomas Wolfe was the first of the American writers to say you can't go home again, and presumably Margulies is providing an addendum here, another "home truth,” if you will. That is to say, with a hint of irony, that the reason you can't go home is because you never left.
There is something profound to be found in that, I thought to myself Friday night. If I could just keep my eyes open long enough to think it through.
REVIEW
What: Ross Valley Players' "Brooklyn Boy," by Donald Margulies
Where: The Barn Theatre, Marin Art & Garden Center 30 Sir Francis Drake Blvd. at Lagunitas, Ross
When: Through June 15; 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays; 7:30 p.m. Thursdays; 2 p.m. Sundays
Tickets: $16-$20; pay what you will on May 16 between 7 and 7:20 p.m.
Of note: Brooklyn transplants are encouraged to attend a special matinee performance at 2 p.m. May 25 followed by a lighthearted interactive forum in which audience members can share their stories and memories of life in Brooklyn. Hosted by "Brooklyn Boy" lead actor Matthew Lai. Reservations recommended. Share your Brooklyn tales at www.rossvalleyplayers.com/talesofbrooklyn.
Information: 456-9555, http://www.rossvalleyplayers.com/
Rating: Two stars out of five
Mark Langton can be reached at mark.langton@comcast.net.
