The Brothers Grimm
by Michael Dresdner
L to R: Andrew Fry, Jacob Tice, Christian Carvajal. Photos by Dennis K Photography |
The Pillowman, a violent, darkly malevolent, yet comedy infused
drama by Martin Mcdonagh (The Cripple of Inishmaan, Three Billboards Outside
Ebbing, Missouri) opened last night at Tacoma Little Theatre. The play marks
the TLT directorial debut of Blake York, the man I regard as the region’s best
set designer. If this is any example, he’s equally skilled as a director.
While I always try to give my readers enough of an overview
to help them decide if a particular offering is or is not their cup of tea,
this one will be hard to box up without giving away things that should remain the
audience’s discoveries. Thus, if this sounds flighty or insufficient, I
apologize, but you deserve to take this journey of discovery without too many
spoiler alerts.
Jacob Tice as Katurian |
The action takes place in a uniformly gray and imposing brick
interrogation room where two contrastingly different totalitarian state “bulls”
put the screws, both verbally and physically, to a prolific writer of fiction ridiculously
named Katurian Katurian. As part of their tactics, the benighted writer must
endure the screams of his mentally challenged brother Michael, whom Katurian
spent much of his life protecting, going through a similar ordeal in the next
room.
L to R: Jacob Tice, Sean Neely as Michael |
As his stories and the interrogators’ questions unfold, it is clear that a favorite topic of his is the torture and killing of children, often by their own natural or foster parents. But as writing is not yet a crime in this dystopian world, he’s puzzled as to why he’s there until he’s told that someone has been acting out his gruesome stories in real life. When he’s put in his brother’s cell, he discovers his slow-witted sibling is the perpetrator of this horrid reality.
Or is he?
Katurian himself confesses to six murders, including both of
his parents, but soon after it’s made clear that at least some of these
killings did not actually happen. Yes, there are definitely absurdist
influences afoot, which my reviewing partner likened to Waiting For Godot. By
the end, we’re really not sure of anything exept that one or another individual
said this or that happened. Reality and truth remain as elusive as they are in
real life.
Along with his finely crafted directing, York pulled together
an absolutely superb cast for what is essentially a four-man play. Katurian is
none other than Jacob Tice, a local actor who invariably excels at every single
role he takes, and this challenging part is no exception. Playing off him in a
long, terse, emotionally charged scene as his mentally stunted brother is Sean
Neely, who did an outstanding and believable job of crafting a complex
character who borders on insightful clarity while being saddled with physical
tics and a confused moral compass.
L to R: Jacob Tice, Christian Carvajal as bad cop Ariel |
The two interrogators, good cop Tupolski (Andrew Fry) and bad
cop Ariel (Christian Carvajal) hold up their end just as admirably, deftly
manipulating the tension in the room while sprinkling it with the occasional
disarmingly comic comment. While the arc of the play is grimly serious, the
random injection of noir comedy affords the put-upon audience both relief and
texture.
At times, when Katurian tells one of the more than 400
stories he wrote, the walls of the cell slide away to let us see his words
unfold. This action, played out by Ellen Peters, Tim Takechi, Alexandria Bray,
and Nathaniel Walker, takes place on the other side of a backlit scrim, so we
see it as a crisply defined shadow show. Once the story ends, we are back in
the gray cell.
As we’ve come to expect at TLT, the technical side is most
adroitly handled by “the usual suspects,” the theatre’s laudable stable of
resident artists, though in this case, the story itself is so gripping that it’s
easy to overlook their contributions. Director Blake York also designed the
set, Michele Graves handled the costumes, Niclas Olson the lighting, Dylan
Twiner the sound design, and Jeffrey Weaver the props, hair, and makeup. Ana
Bury is the resident scenic artist, and the ever-capable Nena Curley is the
stage manager.
Admittedly, this is not a night of jollity, but wrapped in
its grim cloak there’s a rollercoaster ride of ethical challenges and intense
emotions that effectively drag the audience through a visceral magic carpet
ride. If the goal of a play is to make you feel and think deeply, this one gets
an A plus, and it is hard to imagine a more flawless cast and crew to execute
it.
How does it all shake out? Perhaps the best way to wrap it up
is to paraphrase one of the lines of the play. “In real life there are no happy
endings.”
Still, if your goal is seeing truly great theatre, here’s
your chance. Gird your emotions, but go see it.
The Pillowman
April 20 to May 6, 2018
Tacoma Little Theatre
http://www.tacomalittletheatre.com/
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