TrueTheatergoerhas awarded Quotidian Theatre Company $10,000 and The Keegan Theatre $5,000 because their audiences wrote and submitted the most reviews this past year to TrueTheatergoer.
TrueTheatergoer’s John Hauge.
“Quotidian and Keegan are excellent examples of theaters with fine management who put on quality productions which are so recognized by their patrons. Both are very deserving of these awards which reflect their efforts to broaden the base of theatergoers in the Washington, DC community,” says TrueTheatergoer’s co-founder John Hauge.
Quotidian Theatre Company is performing The Birdsthrough August 11, 2013 at Quotidian Theatre Company at The Writer’s Center – 4508 Walsh Street, in Bethesda, MD. For tickets, call 1-800-838-3006 Ext.1/Ask for Quotidian Theatre, or purchase them online. Their upcoming three show 2013-2014 season includes Eugene O’Neill’s The Iceman Cometh, Brian Friel’s Faith Healer, and Conor McPherson’s The Veil.
The Keegan Theatre (soon to become the Andrew Keegan Theatre) recently purchased Church Street Theater, which is undergoing a major renovation. In their campaign In Good Company theyare reaching out to the theatre community to help them raise the $4 million needed to complete the renovation. They are about to open a new production of Aaron Sorkin’s A Few Good Men, which plays from August 10th through September 7th. For tickets, purchase them online, or call the box office at (703) 892-0202.
The Keegan Theatre’s upcoming 2013-2014 season includes productions of The Sunshine Boys by Neil Simon, The Woman in Black by by Stephen Mallatratt, An Irish Carol by Matthew Keenan, The Best Man by Gore Vidal, Hair by James Rado and Gerome Ragni with music by Galt MacDermot, Things You Shouldn’t Say Past Midnight by Peter Ackerman, and A Midsummer Night’s Riot by Rosemary Jenkinson.
“My brother Stephen and I created the TrueTheatergoer.comwebsite in October 2011 to promote theater in Washington, DC and on Broadway by providing an enriching collection of information on current shows and composite audience reviews and ratings of these shows. Our hope is to further develop a community excited about theater and willing to write short comments of shows so others can benefit from their experiences.”
TrueTheatergoer also awards its readers every month when they award the reader who contributes the most reviews that month a gift certificate for $100 worth of theatre tickets. And that could be you! So after seeing a show, don’t forget to review your show on TrueTheatergoer.com.
First came du Maurier, then came Hitchcock, and now comes the DC premiere of Conor McPherson’s The Birds at Bethesda’s Quotidian Theatre Company.
Jenny Donovan, Matthew Vaky, and Stephanie Mumford. Photo by St. Johnn Blondell.
Good stories normally involve conflict. The Birds”is a prime example. Originally offered as a short story by Daphne du Mauier, then immortalized in film by Alfred Hitchcock, and now the basis of a new play by Conor McPherson, this story has more than its fair share of conflict. At first glance there is, of course, the conflict arising from an external real or perceived threat of enemy attack against humanity, as represented by birds. Perhaps the bigger conflict in this story, however, is the resulting inner turmoil, as well as the moral and ethical conflict and fear that arises within each character individually and among all characters collectively as they face a new existence and survival in a world no longer operating under the order and rules of life they had relied upon in the past.
Directed by Jack Sbarbori and featuring excellent acting by cast members Jenny Donovan (Julia), Stephanie Mumford (Diane), Ted Schneider (Tierney), and Matthew Vaky (Nat), the play is at the same time dark and humorous. Stephanie Mumford is outstanding, playing an abandoned wife and estranged mother desperate for lasting love from anybody. Matthew Vaky shows wonderful dramatic and comedic talent in his portrayal of a somewhat mentally imbalanced and troubled man drowning his inadequacies in alcohol, drugs, and empty relationships. Jenny Donovan plays the part of a callously selfish ingénue to perfection, and Ted Schneider is chillingly cold in his blunt assessment of life and his own personal needs.
Conor McPherson’s script is exceptional. His play starts slowly and methodically, drawing the audience into the feelings of hopelessness and despair ‘perfect people’ might feel in realizing that they may or may not be the only four survivors left in a world that has been overtaken by birds. As the plot twists, turns, and thickens, with McPherson continually dropping and then returning to clues that snare us into understanding the deception and weakness that can envelop humanity when people believe that nobody is looking. We laugh at and alternatively lament the frailty and shortcomings of these highly flawed characters, and we question what we would do under similar circumstances.
I was exceptionally impressed with the script, Sbarbori’s quaint and rustic lake cottage set design, his overall direction of the play, and superb performances by the entire cast.
I highly recommend this wonderful offering by Quotidian Theatre Company and encourage all to see this truly outstanding production.
Running Time: One hour and 45 minutes, with no intermission.
The Birds plays though August 11, 2013 at Quotidian Theatre Company at The Writer’s Center – 4508 Walsh Street, in Bethesda, MD. For tickets, call 1-800-838-3006 Ext.1/Ask for Quotidian Theatre, or purchase them online.
Do you have your tide tables? You know: those listings that tell you high tide, low tide, water height, etc. Every newspaper from a city that’s remotely close to water has them, but, unless you’re a fisherman or a sailor, do you ever pay attention to them? Can you even find them?
Well, you’d better. When the world ends, you’re going to need them.
‘The Birds’ cast: Jenny Donovan, Stephanie Mumford, Ted Schneider, and Matthew Vaky. Photo courtesy of Quotidian Theatre Company.
In Conor McPherson’s play The Birds, currently in rehearsal at Quotidian Theatre Company, we’re not exactly at the end of the world, but you’ve got to believe we’re pretty close. Adapted from Daphne du Maurier’s short story, the show is tight, tense, and compelling. I sat in on a run-through last Tuesday, and it made me want to run for my tide tables.
The setting is Ireland in the indeterminate future, but definitely future. Things are (huge understatement here) not going well. Huge populations have been uprooted; people have been roaming from town to town, searching for food, looting other peoples’ homes and occupying them with no regard whatsoever for the owners’ rights — indeed, without any consideration whatsoever for their fellow man. And they’re fleeing the birds, which come in with the tide every six hours or so and attack anyone who happens to be in the open.
But don’t blame it all on the birds. We’re in a real post-apocalyptic scenario, except that there’s no apparent apocalypse. Things just seem to have slid downhill in general, and a good deal of the misery is the result of man’s inhumanity to his fellow man.
The first two characters we see are Diane (Stephanie Mumford), a successful writer in happier days, and Nat (Matthew Vaky), who is tormented by bad dreams and worries about his two children whom he has not seen for almost a year. They are joined by Julia (Jenny Donovan), a young woman who has been hiding from the birds for many days and has seen frightful attacks on fellow refugees. The three begin to cope with life in their new shelter, which leads to inevitable frictions and complications, but also to simple pleasures and celebrations. They are obsessed with the desire to escape their claustrophobic shelter and see if anyone else is alive anywhere, yet they are ever wary of the danger that the birds — and whatever else is lurking — present.
You can see why Hitchcock loved du Maurier’s story: plenty of opportunities for conflict, skullduggery, and just bad business from the marauding birds and from that most unpredictable of creatures, one’s fellow man. But — let’s face it — this territory is well-trodden. End-of-the-world plots have been a staple of countless movies and TV episodes. So what does McPherson offer that keeps this plot from getting bogged down in the tracks? Actually, quite a lot. Philosophy, for one thing. Diane has several monologues that are affecting and powerful as she muses aloud about a killer and her victim, and what the deed does to the mind and soul; the issue of whether the human race was really such a good idea, after all; and the nature and predicament of being God. This is McPherson at his most eloquent.
Also, the script and the production create and sustain a consistent atmosphere of being on the edge. I like this. In the best stories about people in want, everything is close to the bone: Amanda Wingfield keeps her family going on magazine subscriptions and her son Tom’s wages; Linda Loman longs to be free and clear. In The Birds, there is never enough of anything (except temporarily, when unexpected caches of food and alcohol are discovered; but they don’t last); there is constant speculation about whether they can make it to St. Thomas, and whether there will even be anything left when they get there; and, if all that weren’t enough, the birds come back with every tide to menace whoever is left after the frenzied populace have done each other in. This story is not for the faint of heart or the easily depressed, but it is powerful storytelling — and the cast, in case you were wondering, is first-rate.
Even if you don’t know the du Maurier short story of the Hitchcock film, you are bound to come with expectations. Will they turn out to be true? Let’s try out a few:
It’s going to be grim. Well, yeah. What did you expect? This is, after all, the end of the world, or a reasonably good facsimile; show me anybody who has written a cheery script about that. There are just not a lot of chuckles here, with the possible exception of one birthday toast involving a screw-top alcoholic beverage (optimistically identified by Nat as wine) which challenges the imbibers’ most valiant attempts to enjoy it.
There’s going to be violence on stage. Sorry, not in this version. There’s plenty of foreboding, and angst to spare, but nothing awful happens to anyone onstage. As in the classic Greek tragedies, the description of horrors happening elsewhere combines with the audience’s intensely-primed imagination to supply all the realism that’s needed.
People are going to do each other in. That all depends on how you, the audience member, interpret certain things that happen at crucial points in the plot. People die (offstage, of course), but how they died and by whose hand is open to interpretation, surmise, hypothesis. That’s why we have audiences.
So, what is the hardest thing to deal with in this show? For my money, it’s the food — or, rather, the lack of it. Starvation is the unspoken, looming threat. There’s plenty of talk about food, undoubtedly because there’s so little of it; and what there is is far from appetizing, unless you happen to be an aficionado of Spaghetti Hoops and Miwadi Orange. And — remember this — onions are a very important element of the plot, so come prepared to think about where onions occur, and why.
So — last question — Why is Quotidian, of all theatres, doing this piece? Where do realism, naturalism, and the drama of everyday life fit into the desperate, menacing landscape of The Birds? Everywhere, in fact. This is about everyday life — not one that any of us would want, but it is definitely a day-to-day slog. Every mundane chore — making a meal, listening to the radio, going out for a walk — is fraught with difficulty and unintended consequences. Nothing is free of complications. It isn’t pretty — just the opposite — but it is Quotidian. Spend a while in the cramped quarters of this farmhouse, listen to the desperate survivors, feel the gnawing hunger, chafe at the frustrating lack of privacy, and wonder if there is any hope anywhere; and, if there is, is it worth the tremendous risk of setting out to search for it? This is big-league storytelling for serious audiences.
Quotidian Theatre Company’s production ofThe Birds by Conor McPherson runs July 12th – August 11th. Show times are 8 pm Fridays and Saturdays, 2 pm Sundays, with one additional 2 pm performance on Saturday, August 10th. Tickets are $30, or $25 for seniors and students, and can be purchased online. For groups of 10 or more, contact quotidiantheatre@comcast.net for reservations and $15 tickets. All performances are held at The Writer’s Center – 4508 Walsh Street in Bethesda, MD. The venue is a short walk from the Bethesda Metro Station. There is free parking on Saturdays and Sundays.
The Birds features Jenny Donovan, Stephanie Mumford, Ted Schneider, and Matthew Vaky as directed by Jack Sbarbori. This is the D.C. area premiere.
Steve LaRocque. Photo courtesy of Quotidian Theatre Company.
Steve LaRocque has been active in the greater Washington, DC area since 1994 as a performer, director, and playwright. He is a charter member of Quotidian Theatre Company and has appeared in over twenty Quotidian productions; favorite roles include Willis Toome in Horton Foote’s Talking Pictures, Alfred P. Doolittle in Shaw’s Pygmalion, and Lopakhin in Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard.“He will play the part of Hickey in QTC’s fall production of The Iceman Cometh. LaRocque has also been writing performance pieces of all kinds, from comedy sketches to full-length plays, since 1976, while simultaneously pursuing a 29-year career as a Navy officer, from which he retired in 2005. (He suspects he may be the only playwright to have had a script produced on board a Navy submarine on patrol). Three of his recent scripts have seen productions, all by Quotidian: September 11th was a Tuesday (2003), While We Have the Light (2005), and Monday Evening 1942 (2009). His one-man show Byline: Ernie Pyle is a compilation of the famed WWII war correspondent’s reportage.
Do you have your tide tables? You know: those listings that tell you high tide, low tide, water height, etc. Every newspaper from a city that’s remotely close to water has them, but, unless you’re a fisherman or a sailor, do you ever pay attention to them? Can you even find them?
Well, you’d better. When the world ends, you’re going to need them.
‘The Birds’ cast: Jenny Donovan, Stephanie Mumford, Ted Schneider, and Matthew Vaky. Photo courtesy of Quotidian Theatre Company.
In Conor McPherson’s play The Birds, currently in rehearsal at Quotidian Theatre Company, we’re not exactly at the end of the world, but you’ve got to believe we’re pretty close. Adapted from Daphne du Maurier’s short story, the show is tight, tense, and compelling. I sat in on a run-through last Tuesday, and it made me want to run for my tide tables.
The setting is Ireland in the indeterminate future, but definitely future. Things are (huge understatement here) not going well. Huge populations have been uprooted; people have been roaming from town to town, searching for food, looting other peoples’ homes and occupying them with no regard whatsoever for the owners’ rights — indeed, without any consideration whatsoever for their fellow man. And they’re fleeing the birds, which come in with the tide every six hours or so and attack anyone who happens to be in the open.
But don’t blame it all on the birds. We’re in a real post-apocalyptic scenario, except that there’s no apparent apocalypse. Things just seem to have slid downhill in general, and a good deal of the misery is the result of man’s inhumanity to his fellow man.
The first two characters we see are Diane (Stephanie Mumford), a successful writer in happier days, and Nat (Matthew Vaky), who is tormented by bad dreams and worries about his two children whom he has not seen for almost a year. They are joined by Julia (Jenny Donovan), a young woman who has been hiding from the birds for many days and has seen frightful attacks on fellow refugees. The three begin to cope with life in their new shelter, which leads to inevitable frictions and complications, but also to simple pleasures and celebrations. They are obsessed with the desire to escape their claustrophobic shelter and see if anyone else is alive anywhere, yet they are ever wary of the danger that the birds — and whatever else is lurking — present.
You can see why Hitchcock loved du Maurier’s story: plenty of opportunities for conflict, skullduggery, and just bad business from the marauding birds and from that most unpredictable of creatures, one’s fellow man. But — let’s face it — this territory is well-trodden. End-of-the-world plots have been a staple of countless movies and TV episodes. So what does McPherson offer that keeps this plot from getting bogged down in the tracks? Actually, quite a lot. Philosophy, for one thing. Diane has several monologues that are affecting and powerful as she muses aloud about a killer and her victim, and what the deed does to the mind and soul; the issue of whether the human race was really such a good idea, after all; and the nature and predicament of being God. This is McPherson at his most eloquent.
Also, the script and the production create and sustain a consistent atmosphere of being on the edge. I like this. In the best stories about people in want, everything is close to the bone: Amanda Wingfield keeps her family going on magazine subscriptions and her son Tom’s wages; Linda Loman longs to be free and clear. In The Birds, there is never enough of anything (except temporarily, when unexpected caches of food and alcohol are discovered; but they don’t last); there is constant speculation about whether they can make it to St. Thomas, and whether there will even be anything left when they get there; and, if all that weren’t enough, the birds come back with every tide to menace whoever is left after the frenzied populace have done each other in. This story is not for the faint of heart or the easily depressed, but it is powerful storytelling — and the cast, in case you were wondering, is first-rate.
Even if you don’t know the du Maurier short story of the Hitchcock film, you are bound to come with expectations. Will they turn out to be true? Let’s try out a few:
It’s going to be grim. Well, yeah. What did you expect? This is, after all, the end of the world, or a reasonably good facsimile; show me anybody who has written a cheery script about that. There are just not a lot of chuckles here, with the possible exception of one birthday toast involving a screw-top alcoholic beverage (optimistically identified by Nat as wine) which challenges the imbibers’ most valiant attempts to enjoy it.
There’s going to be violence on stage. Sorry, not in this version. There’s plenty of foreboding, and angst to spare, but nothing awful happens to anyone onstage. As in the classic Greek tragedies, the description of horrors happening elsewhere combines with the audience’s intensely-primed imagination to supply all the realism that’s needed.
People are going to do each other in. That all depends on how you, the audience member, interpret certain things that happen at crucial points in the plot. People die (offstage, of course), but how they died and by whose hand is open to interpretation, surmise, hypothesis. That’s why we have audiences.
So, what is the hardest thing to deal with in this show? For my money, it’s the food — or, rather, the lack of it. Starvation is the unspoken, looming threat. There’s plenty of talk about food, undoubtedly because there’s so little of it; and what there is is far from appetizing, unless you happen to be an aficionado of Spaghetti Hoops and Miwadi Orange. And — remember this — onions are a very important element of the plot, so come prepared to think about where onions occur, and why.
So — last question — Why is Quotidian, of all theatres, doing this piece? Where do realism, naturalism, and the drama of everyday life fit into the desperate, menacing landscape of The Birds? Everywhere, in fact. This is about everyday life — not one that any of us would want, but it is definitely a day-to-day slog. Every mundane chore — making a meal, listening to the radio, going out for a walk — is fraught with difficulty and unintended consequences. Nothing is free of complications. It isn’t pretty — just the opposite — but it is Quotidian. Spend a while in the cramped quarters of this farmhouse, listen to the desperate survivors, feel the gnawing hunger, chafe at the frustrating lack of privacy, and wonder if there is any hope anywhere; and, if there is, is it worth the tremendous risk of setting out to search for it? This is big-league storytelling for serious audiences.
Quotidian Theatre Company’s production ofThe Birds by Conor McPherson runs July 12th – August 11th. Show times are 8 pm Fridays and Saturdays, 2 pm Sundays, with one additional 2 pm performance on Saturday, August 10th. Tickets are $30, or $25 for seniors and students, and can be purchased online. For groups of 10 or more, contact quotidiantheatre@comcast.net for reservations and $15 tickets. All performances are held at The Writer’s Center – 4508 Walsh Street in Bethesda, MD. The venue is a short walk from the Bethesda Metro Station. There is free parking on Saturdays and Sundays.
The Birds features Jenny Donovan, Stephanie Mumford, Ted Schneider, and Matthew Vaky as directed by Jack Sbarbori. This is the D.C. area premiere.
Steve LaRocque. Photo courtesy of Quotidian Theatre Company.
Steve LaRocque has been active in the greater Washington, DC area since 1994 as a performer, director, and playwright. He is a charter member of Quotidian Theatre Company and has appeared in over twenty Quotidian productions; favorite roles include Willis Toome in Horton Foote’s Talking Pictures, Alfred P. Doolittle in Shaw’s Pygmalion, and Lopakhin in Chekhov’s The Cherry Orchard.“He will play the part of Hickey in QTC’s fall production of The Iceman Cometh. LaRocque has also been writing performance pieces of all kinds, from comedy sketches to full-length plays, since 1976, while simultaneously pursuing a 29-year career as a Navy officer, from which he retired in 2005. (He suspects he may be the only playwright to have had a script produced on board a Navy submarine on patrol). Three of his recent scripts have seen productions, all by Quotidian: September 11th was a Tuesday (2003), While We Have the Light (2005), and Monday Evening 1942 (2009). His one-man show Byline: Ernie Pyle is a compilation of the famed WWII war correspondent’s reportage.
Elden Street Players presents The Seafarer, a black comedy written by Conor McPherson. Just in time to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, this hauntingly genuine Irish tale explores deep themes like despair, redemption, and the laughter that breaches the gap between. This production is beautifully directed by Angie Anderson.
Set Designer Tod Kerr creates a lived-in home that teeters on a fine line; shabby but swept, unkempt but respected. Tattered, mismatched furniture sits upon threadbare rugs, and the wallpaper is faded and old-fashioned. However, someone has gone through the trouble of decorating for Christmas, with a somewhat sad-looking tree sitting in the corner and Santa figurines lovingly placed on the mantle. Things have a rightful place; a stack of cards sits neatly tucked away, quilts and blankets are tidily folded. Catholic influences like crucifixes, nativity scenes, and portraits of Jesus are seen throughout the space. There is a heartbreaking air about this place, as if the effort and care is there, but the demand of upkeep is too high for the occupants. Jill L. Kerr handles Set Painting and Design, and Nanette Reynolds the Set Dressing and Properties, and both do a fine, detailed job. Truly, it almost seems as if the set is its own character.
The cast of ‘The Seafarer’: Bill Fleming, Scott Bailey, Todd C. Huse, Mark Adams and Ian Mark Brown. Photo courtesy of Elden Street Players.
Costume Designer Judy Whelihan matches the character’s clothes to the house; the garments are nice, but thoroughly wrinkled. Lighting Designer Franklin C. Coleman uses soft blues and blaring reds to enhance emotion, as well as “practicals;” working electrical sockets used for the tree lights…and a plug-in cross. Sound Designer Stan Harris completes the atmosphere with effects like wind, rain, music, and telephone rings.
It’s Christmas Eve north of Dublin City, and the Harkin house is awakening to one hell of a hangover. Richard Harkin (Scott Bailey) emerges from behind the sofa, empty bottle in hand and with only one arm slung through his evening jacket. When his brother James “Sharky” (Bill Fleming) emerges, one can easily assume that he is another victim of a night of hard drinking, until it is revealed that he is attempting sobriety, and that his bleary-eyed nature is instead a mixture of exhaustion and sadness. He has moved back home after losing his job, and is looking after Richard, who was recently blinded in an accident. Richard, hot-tempered and loud, shouts demands at his brother while his friend Ivan Curry (Mark Adams) appears from upstairs, disheveled and feeling his way about, as he has lost his glasses. The pair steadily sneaks drinks as Sharky fumbles about, feebly trying to clean a mess that outpaces him. Subtext is a large element in this play—fractured relationships, blame, and strain is evident under the “joking” dialogue, as Richard exclaims, “I don’t know who’s looking after who.” When Sharky discovers that Richard has invited his love-rival, the lively but shallow Nicky Giblin (Ian Mark Brown) over for a game of poker that evening, the tension escalates.
The drinks keep flowing into the night as Nicky arrives with a mysterious stranger, Mr. Lockhart (Todd C. Huse). Lockhart has a refined, composed creepiness about him, and reveals to Sharky his true nature, and that the stakes in this poker game are much higher than Sharky could have ever imagined. It’s the game of a lifetime—literally. Who will prevail?
The performances in this play are incredibly intelligent—which is a tricky feat, considering that most of the characters spend the entire show stumbling around in a drunken haze. The actors are all hugely talented and make each character fully believable, even when they are met with a supernatural element. Bill Fleming gives Sharky a sweetly tragic air about him—a lonely man consumed in his own personal grief. Scott Bailey plays the rougher side of the same coin as the irritable Richard, and Mark Adams provides much of the comic relief as the clumsy, woebegone Ivan.
McPherson’s script is beautifully written, including a truly frightening description of hell, told by Lockhart, which will stay with me forever. Unspoken thoughts, anger, and resentments ripple under the festive scene like an electric currant, and is thrilling to watch. While thinking of a way to describe the direction of this production, my mind kept circling back to the word “lovingly,” because it is crisply clear in the execution that this show is tenderly loved by all those involved.
Deep, thought-provoking, and darkly funny, Elden Street Players’ The Seafarer is one production you must see!
Running Time: Approximately two hours and 30 minutes, including one 15-minute intermission.
The Seafarerplays through April 6, 2013 at Elden Street Players – 269 Sunset Park Drive, in Herndon, VA. For tickets, call (703) 481- 5930, or order them online.
In Conor McPherson’s The Seafarer, Richard Harkin says of his brother, Sharky, “It’s a well-known fact in this whole area that my brother has that rare gift which is, unfortunately, the opposite of whatever the Midas touch was.”
L to R: Joe Palka, Brian Mallon, Eric Lucas, David Mitchell, and David Bryan Jackson in 'The Seafarer.' Photo by Veronica Hunter.
Sharky, an alcoholic, can’t hold a job, picks fights he is sure to lose, has had multiple run-ins with the law, loses when he gambles, and suffers the humiliation of seeing his car being driven around town by an old friend who has stolen his girlfriend. And now he’s come home to live with his blind, demanding, unwashed brother who’s just full of ego-boosting affirmations like the one above. When Richard, in a typically insensitive moment, invites the girlfriend-stealing friend, Nicky, over to play poker on Christmas Eve, and Nicky brings along an acquaintance, things get even worse for Sharky. The apparent stranger, Mr. Lockhart, reminds Sharky that they met 25 years earlier and that it’s time for Sharky to make good on a debt. If you don’t know this play but are familiar with the author, you will correctly guess that Lockhart is not referring to an IOU that can be paid off with any worldly goods.
The Seafarer is part of a body of work that has earned the Irish playwright McPherson acclaim as one of the world’s greatest living playwrights. Scena Theatre is presenting an excellent production of this black comedy at the H Street Playhouse.
Under the direction of Robert McNamara, Scena’s Artistic Director, the five-man cast is convincing as a group of heavy drinkers at an all-night poker game. Four of the players have known each other all their lives, and the four actors portraying them create just the right mix of camaraderie, affection, and resentment that exist among men who know all the triumphs and humiliations of each other’s history.
As Sharky, Eric Lucas broods, simmers, and occasionally boils over throughout the first act, skillfully portraying the joyless existence of a failure who has lost all hope of success. When Mr. Lockhart raises the stakes, Lucas makes the subtle transition from despair to desperation. Lucas comes off as too hardworking and competent early in the play and, at times, it’s hard to square it with his dismal history, which comes out as the play progresses.
Richard is the driving force of much of the play’s action. He orders Sharky around, dictates the social plans for Christmas, organizes raids on the neighborhood winos, and arranges the fateful poker game. Palka’s portrayal of Richard is at times hilarious. The aimless stare of his blindness adds to the wonderful deadpan with which he delivers some of his funniest and cruelest lines.
David Bryan Jackson gives an outstanding performance as the Mephistophelian Mr. Lockhart. He is at his best when he first arrives and privately reminds Sharky of their long-ago meeting. His friendly smile and gregarious personality make the evil he represents even more terrifying. Of the many reasons to see this play, the best might be the chance to watch Jackson’s Lockhart describe heaven and hell to Sharky.
Brian Mallon is perfect as Ivan, the old friend whose life seems to be an absolute mess. That Ivan’s miserable circumstances are not seen by the other characters as being in the same league as Sharky’s further illustrates the catastrophe that is Sharky’s life. More than any other member of this fine cast, Mallon becomes his character; you never catch him acting. The nearly literal manifestation of the blind-leading-the-blind metaphor that McPherson creates through Ivan and Richard’s poker partnership is a great source of comedy and character development in the hands of Mallon and Palka.
David Mitchell plays Nicky as a quirky innocent who does not seem to understand why Sharky might resent him. The Irish actor has such telling facial expressions and delivery, that I found myself laughing even when his brogue was too thick for me to understand. He greatly adds to the play’s physical comedy, walking around like some sort of hybrid of Charlie Chaplin and John Wayne. The actor’s skill is such that we come to like him in spite of our natural tendency to root for Sharky.
Scena’s design team for The Seafarer is remarkable. Michael C. Stepowany’s single set is an excellent representation of a bachelor’s living room in a house outside of Dublin, or at least what I imagine that to be. Set dressing, including a faded sofa with a cushion in sideways and a Jesus portrait/electric candle that never works, add detail that enhances the set’s ring of truth. Similarly, Kevin Laughton’s props add to the play’s realism. Sound Designer Erik Trester deserves a nod for a particular ringtone from Nicky’s phone.
Although Sharky should have been dressed shabbier, to earlier establish him as the loser he is, Megan Holeva’s costumes were appropriate and had a degree of detail to match the set, the dressings, and the props. Marianne Meadows’ lighting design is so subtle as to be barely perceptible and yet so effective that we feel as if we’ve experienced dusk, midnight, and dawn along with the characters.
Eric Lucas and David Mitchell in 'The Seafarer.' Photo by Veronica Hunter.
Conor McPherson’s The Seafarer is a work of art and Scena’s team proves to be eminently worthy of tackling it. Go see this production!
Running Time: Two hours and 25 minutes, with a 15-minute intermission.
The Seafarer runs through May 20 at Scena Theatre at the H Street Playhouse – 1365 H St NE, in Washington, DC. For tickets, call (703) 683-2824, or order them online.
