There's a rendering plant quality highlighted in an early bad joke by Gregory S. Moss in the House of Gold, now receiving a world premiere at the Woolly Mammoth (to 11/28) which succinctly captures the life and times of JonBenét Ramsey and our culture: when it comes to icons, we harvest everything but the squeal.  Mr. Moss's episodic play consisting of fourteen scenes is a "theater of the absurd" journey into the world of the late six year-old beauty queen (impishly played by Kaaron Briscoe) and the many infantile impulses which surround her.      

Director Sarah Benson has evoked the show's kaleidoscopic nature in her staging which alters everything we see, hear, and perceive in this multimedia production.  Notions of beauty, race, and success are thrown into the hopper for an end-product fit for postmodern consumption. That discrete object of desire seems to be on the runway for the girls while for the guys it's in the stadium.  All the adults from the Woman (Emily Townley) and Man (Michael Russotto) to the Detective (Mitchell Hébert) investigating her disappearance and the lurking man (James Flanagan) next door known as Joseph M. Lonely, Jr., want a piece of her. Only a teenage wannabe black man and boxer named Jasper (Randy Blair) seems to be on her wavelength, but he's fighting demons of his own.  (Casting an African-American for the part of The Girl and a white who feels he's black is slightly comedic, but otherwise has negligible impact.) The aftermath has a familiarity so well known to us - a genre mode in its ritualistic procession - that it seems scripted: the abduction, ransom note, parental targeting, suspicious stranger, and the celebrity-hungry public all need an airing and they get it here, though with a twist.

House of Gold, which gets its name from a Hank Williams, Sr. song, has a hit-or-miss quality to it. Part of the problem lies with an ambitious script that hangs a lot of thematic material on its slender shoulders; part lies with the disjointed style of the decentered text, which will exasperate anyone looking for a storyline.  The uptempo scenes work best, featuring the excellent Ms. Townley who scales new heights in repressed female rage, Mr. Russotto as her obsessive stage husband, and Mr. Hebert playing a delightfully dogged detective.  But the subplot with the trash-talking Jasper and the Apollonian boys (Andrew M. Lincoln, Ben Kingsland, and Mark Halpern) weighs the production down, as do his one-on-ones with The Girl, though Mr. Blair's take on the hefty teen drew the audience in and got the most laughs as a pugilist and lover.  And extended monologues by the Joseph Lonely and JonBenét characters, though convincingly delivered by Mr. Flanagan (who channels his inner Tony Perkins) and Ms. Briscoe, seem to read better on the page than the stage.  There's also not much here that you haven't heard before. (I was reminded variously of Alice Sebold's The Lovely Bones, episodes of CSI, the Michael Jackson trial, and Patty Hearst kidnapping.) Still, the off-kilter dialogue is arresting in places; the cadence and style of Mr. Moss's prose has a poetic quality which surfaces from time to time, and gives the play a provocative jolt,  promising better things to come.        

David Zinn's candy-colored, three-layered (with a vanilla center), dollhouse-like set is striking, though it has an improvisational look with sheets for curtains, mirrors to reflect the sharp edges, and a basement to suggest the off-stage violence that's brewing.  A lot of action occurs outside of the house, downstage, which makes for some awkward scene changes for the actors.  Colin K. Bills' lighting and the video of Aaron Fisher nicely flesh out the dynamics as do Mr. Zinn's playful costumes.  Matt Tierney serves the show extremely well in his design of sound, underscoring in some places and overtly conveying in others (I especially liked the use of microphones) the complex and quick shift of moods - almost like jump cuts - that are called for in House.

Mr. Moss's play will prove troubling at times - the gruesome finale is a fitting send-off - but not nearly as troubling as a 30 second You Tube clip of the real-life six year-old JonBenét made-up as a sexy cowgirl, strutting her stuff.   Perhaps this is the tough morsel that's hard going down: in this case reality, too much with us, is the more compelling story - truth really is stranger and much more disturbing than fiction.

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Sound check:   Moderate to very high sound levels at scene transitions

Program notes: Outstanding. Imaginative tabloid program with loads of information, nicely captured and expanded upon on Woolly's website and Facebook page.  The run features nightly post-show discussions to enhance viewer experience

Applause meter: 3 hands (out of 5) for new plays.  The script and design support a weighty (and shaky) structure with many disjunctures.  Audience members will have to work hard at suspending disbelief and adjusting their thinking to the internal illogic of the play. Recommended for those absurdist fans who like their farce and drama well done, with edge  

Standout moments of the show:  "Putting on Your Face," with Ms. Townley and Ms. Briscoe and "I Still Have Her Heart," with Mr. Hébert and Ms. Briscoe (tied) - Truth and Beauty manufactured and dissected

Stars of the play:   Emily Townley as Woman, Randy Blair as Jasper, and sound designer Matt Tierney

Runtime: A little over 80 minutes with no intermission

Photo credits:   Stan Barouh

© John F. Glass November 8, 2010 - All rights reserved