The Pittsburgh
Irish and Classical Theatre is providing a rare opportunity to take in six plays of Harold Pinter, performed in repertory
by a cast of 17 actors over the course of a month (to 8/22). (For an overview of the festival, refer to my feature summary.) Last weekend, I had a chance to attend the two full-length works anchoring the festival - both seldom seen on stage
- No Man's Land and The Hothouse. The staging and performances were so good - with superb direction
and acting - I can't wait to get out to the remaining pair of one-acts - The Dumb Waiter & Betrayal
and The Room & Celebration, in what promises to be a most satisfying six-pack. I'll drink
to that!
Because the reputation of the writer comes a bit distorted through the media,
PICT has slotted a panel discussion entitled "Misperceiving Pinter" (12 Noon 8/14, free) to address some of the
more famous ones. Leaving aside the politics, let me offer my take on a few of the misconceptions relating to the art.
For one, the long or "pregnant" pauses often assigned to Pinter are now not so apparent to the viewer, partly the
result of the movies. The tight camera work, close-ups, and editing heighten and slow down what used to be pushed past
us on the screen. Also, modern direction places the emphasis more on breaking down the scenes, beat by beat, before
moving on. To make the comparison, rent the excellent American Film Institute adaptation of The Homecoming,
directed by Peter Hall, 1973. Even the term coined as the result of his absurdist style - Pinteresque - does not seem
so obvious now, given the playwrights - Edward Albee and Martin McDonagh come immediately mind - who have followed.
And the incidents from real life are no longer that eccentric, given the litany of personal, corporate, and governmental fiascos
that often pass as news on a daily basis. (But of course, Mr. Pinter got there first.) Let us hope that the term
Kafkaesque does not meet a similar fate!
To be sure, Pinter represents a unique voice.
And it is refreshing to hear it unmediated through the workshop-processed, MFA-inspired, and agent-influenced productions
that regularly parade across our stages these days. He was his own man in art and in life.
Certain
themes are common in Pinter's work and you will see them in No Man's Land and The Hothouse: language,
power, and humor - manifested in the struggle of the individual against the group or system. Both of the plays are also
linked by an outsider trying to gain access to a privileged world. In NML, it's Spooner the "down-at-the-heels
poet," trying to move in, while in HH, it's Lamb (the aptly named innocent), Gibbs, and Lush trying to move up.
The plays are very much about competition - games in which the characters create their own versions of reality (NML) or negotiate
the hierarchy to their best advantage (HH). Each is a winner-takes-all society. To achieve their ends, and
this is the great fun of seeing the play in action, the characters fall naturally into a role. They are all acting,
all the time - watching their performance while they gauge the awareness of their adversary (no confederates here!) and that
of the audience (other characters or us!). Pinter's great insight was that whenever two or more individuals are
gathered together, a performance is about to unfold (To get a greater feel for this phenomenon, see The Presentation of
Self in Everyday Life, by Erving Goffman, 1959.)
The plays are also
about the mystery of life. As a writer who was famous for his reticence on character and motivation, not to mention
meaning, the plays are open to multiple levels of interpretation. NML, perhaps the more cryptic of the two, will leave
you scratching your head, at least until the second act. HH, in the style of a dark comedy, is really in essence a whodunit,
which is capable of solution by the finale (I'll give my own at the end of the festival, but PICT might offer a prize
on their website for the best answer).
No Man's Land
Andrew Paul has assembled a Dream Team of actors to take us through No Man's Land. Though
the script and program notes give a more poetic definition, one that "does not move ... or change ... grow old,"
the connotations of the title hearken back to World War I, a sort of DMZ or demilitarized zone which is unoccupied or contested,
"up for grabs" as the case my be. Spooner, given a persnickety turn by the superb Rick McMillan, is trying
to ingratiate himself into the household of Hirst, played with equal parts cunning and abandon by the stalwart Sam Tsoutsouvas.
Mr. McMillan's full comedic agility calls to mind Bill Irwin while Mr. Tsoutsouvas' physical transformation is reminiscent
of Olivier. Each of their characters seems to want what the other possesses: for Spooner it's a secure place
in the world, for Hirst the desire to master this one on his own merits. (An alternative view is that Hirst is looking
to exit this world and is in need of someone or some persons to ease his passage.)
What
follows is a series of language games, from the obscure (Act I) to the laughably melodramatic (Act II), where first one then
the other assumes the advantage. Who's got it is unclear, and it will get even murkier with the arrival of Foster
(Jarrad DiGiorgi) and Briggs (David Whalen) who are a lesser part of the picture but a big part of the game. Mr. DiGiorgi
gives his Cockney man-on-the-make character just the right ambiguity while the talented David Whalen, who played a priest
and prince in two previous roles, is a convincingly menacing presence throughout. (The characters, I found out from
my reading, are all named for cricket players before the First World War.) Is any of it true? Ultimately
it won't matter because Mr. Paul's controlled and fluid production on Gianni Downs' striking black and brown toned
set, with gargantuan drinks sideboard and just a few choice props of Cory F. Goddard, give this superbly acted show an arresting
visual presence. Crystal Gomes' excellent costumes and the lighting of Jim French complete the picture and
mood, which the nature music (jungle?) of Elizabeth Atkinson nicely complements, as does the polyphonic concluding dialogue
of the play. Whether it's all in Hirst's head - projections of a mind running down - or the characters'
histories are fictitious - all these "poets" wouldn't know T.S. Eliot from Cass Elliot - they, particularly
Spooner, are narrative generating machines, capturing the zeitgeist, and the ability to impress their vision of the
past on the present is the one that counts and lasts.
The Hothouse
If you're a fan of Monty Python, you'll find plenty to relate to in The Hothouse, an absurdist
comedy about some nondescript institution, where the patients are known by numbers and not by name. On one level, it's
a send-up (or takedown) of bureaucracies everywhere, and their incremental corruption, with the law of the wolf pack as a
metaphor. But don't let the relentless details, insidious situations, and the arch characterizations of this dark
comedy fool you; this is style over substance. The play is a murder mystery, where everyone's a suspect, lots of
mind games are going on, and some bizarre plot twists, along with a red herring or MacGuffin are included. Director
Matthew Gray's fine production grabs you with both hands and won't let you go until you cede your neck. Larry
John Meyers is sensational as a blustering and pop-eyed Roote (a role that Pinter played), whose position in the order is
threatened by a pair of beta males: Gibbs, played with Oxbridge precision by Leo Marks, and Lush, a working class Welsh
staff member, who Michael Hanrahan positively channels, especially during an hilarious and spellbinding example of obscurantism,
in Act I.
Fast on their heels is alpha female Cutts, interpreted by Tami Dixon
with such originality - part Vixen, part DSer, and completely wacko - that my verbal description can not do it full justice
(What she does to a ping-pong ball must be seen to be believed.) Martin Giles gives a manic performance as Lamb but
his scapegoat omega position has been assigned for oblivion by the group; the degree to which the others turn on him will
give pause to everyone who is out of step with the prevailing order of the day. Doug Pona plays Tubbs, and Sam Tsoutsouvas,
this time around, as Lobb, fill out the cast and the hierarchy of this strange land. Credit dialect coach Natalie Baker
Shirer for delineating the classes.
This excellent production suffers somewhat from the
design and the limitations of a thrust stage in a small space. The battleship gray and sterile set, with patient charts
pegged to the back wall and institutional furniture, nicely captures the mood, but the backward placement of a couch downstage
leaves most of the audience looking at the back of the actors' heads. During the "experimental" scene,
when Mr. Giles' character is in the hot seat, the audiovisuals did not project well, the patient charts blurring the defined
images that would have been available on a flat surface. There was also too much bass from the speaker in the raffle
sequence at the end of the play, muffling the dialogue.
The Hothouse, written
in 1957, was first performed in 1980. Why the delay? I suspect Mr. Pinter was looking for a better second act
and never found it. His celebrity forced the play to find the light of day. Act II is more of a farce, with extended
gags, stock scenes, and slower pacing - where all the loose ends thrown out earlier have to be tied up. Still, by the
time of the chilling finale I found it pretty much worked for me. On balance, the extremely funny script, delightful
acting - ranging from the individual to the ensemble performances - and the production efforts of Mr. Gray and company created
a most entertaining evening. Do yourself a favor and find out what it's all about!
******************************************************************************
Sound
check: Excellent
Program notes: Outstanding; an introductory article, Pinter Timeline,
and six essays, one for each play, are included with the program. They can be downloaded from PICT's Facebook page
as well. For a more fan-friendly read, try Michael Billington's The Life and Work of Harold Pinter, Faber
& Faber, 1996
Applause meter: Highly recommended, 4 + hands, both works. Check
out www.picttheatre.org for dates and times
Runtime: NML: 1 hour and 45 minutes with an intermission; HH: 2 hours
and 15 minutes with an intermission
Photo credits: NML: Daisy Block; HH: Suellen Fitzsimmons
© John F. Glass August 3, 2010 - All rights reserved
