Tin Speaker

I fear that this Web log has taken a distinct turn in a strictly music-oriented direction. Not to say that I don’t enjoy writing about music, because obviously I do, but my intention with The Tin Speaker has never been to create a Web log solely devoted to music. Instead, what I hope to create is a mesclun salad of culture, a forum for the advancement of the common welfare and a place for me to practice my typing skills.

The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.

I typed all of those — no copy/paste here, readers. I wouldn’t shortchange you like that.

What I’ve been driving at is that I saw a play Wednesday evening, a wonderful play, and I’m glad to be able to discuss that here, as a welcome change for me as well as, I suspect, a certain segment of my vast readership.

This production of Desire Under The Elms originated in the Second City before moving to the St. James theatre and opening this Monday to reviews both glowing and unmoved.

Let’s be serious, though — this is a Web log (albeit one of the very highest caliber) so if you want to read a detailed, professional review perhaps you should click one of the previous links (or try these). I will here write some things that may make sense, and some that may cause pain to the weaker of you, dear readers.

Brief overview of the play: two brothers, Peter and Simeon Cabot; half-brother Eben Cabot; father Ephraim Cabot. Eben’s mother has died and he thinks the farm ought to be his. Ephraim is being all stingy with things. Ephraim has been away for a few months when the play begins. He brings home a new wife, the much younger and absurdly attractive Abbie, who takes rather a shine to Eben. Peter and Simeon head out Californee-way for the gold rush, and hijinks ensue among the remaining three characters.

Let us begin at the beginning, with the first two actors who appear onstage — Boris McGiver and Daniel Stewart Sherman, as the brothers Peter and Simeon Cabot, respectively. When they started talking, I couldn’t understand where they were supposed to be from, because their accents were so odd. The rest of the cast (except Brian Dennehy; I think he managed to sound natural) also sounded unidentifiably misplaced in what was supposed to be 1850s New England. I got over the accent issue shortly, though, which was fortunate. What was less easy to get over were the lower-lip movements that Mr McGiver (who looks like that mean doctor from Scrubs) decided to adopt for his role. He just looks like a damn fool, flopping his lip around like a fish. Maybe it plays well to the back of the house, but from the front row it was baloney style. Stewart Sherman, the big lug, was all right as Simeon. Man, those brothers were dumb as hell, though. Talking all sorts of raspy nonsense about headin’ out Californee-way, lookin’ for some internets. Silly folk, them.

Then Pablo Schreiber came onto the scene as Eben Cabot, looking like Andy Borowitz minus twenty years. Eben spends much of the play alternately boning Carla Gugino’s Abbie and shouting about how much he hates her. There is also a fair amount of spitting, as well as a fine instance of rear male nudity. A Pablo Heinie, if you will! (you get it, right? Hilarious. Came up with that today. Hilarious. Pablo Heinie. ‘Cause his name is Pablo. And you see his butt. Hilarious. Sonja Heinie! Hmmm, that one’s not funny. Probably because it doesn’t make any sense. Remember Pablo Heinie, though? Hilarious.) It should be noted that there was also a quick, between-the-legs peek at the grape action. Apart from the fact that he was yelling practically the whole evening, Pablo was good, especially at creating the thick sexual tension with Ms Gugino (though I can’t imagine it could be difficult in any way to create sexual tension with Carla Gugino). It’s not his fault that O’Neill writes Eben saying the line “I hate you, you harlot!” in various iterations maybe twenty times throughout the play.

I was more impressed, however, with Brian Dennehy’s and Ms Gugino’s performances. As Ephraim, Mr Dennehy is a colossus, running the damn show with the forceful personality borne of the labor of moving large stones all around when they said it couldn’t be done. I had never seen Mr Dennehy on stage before, and he is quite the presence. I was scared he would come down and throttle me if I gave him an odd look.

As for Ms Gugino, my belly did funny dances whenever she was onstage, and my heart was beating like a hummingbird’s for an hour after the show. Maybe that gives you an idea of what kind of performance we’re talking about, here. Maybe it doesn’t, at all. Maybe you keep quiet, over there, bub.

I was a little disappointed by the ending, but that’s a problem I have with the play, not the production. If you don’t want to know what happens at the end, you must stop reading, difficult as that may be. Have you stopped reading? No? So, then, you are willing to find out what happens at the end of the play? All right. Ephraim and Eben have a tiddlywinks match — winner takes all. Eben wins, but then Ephraim cuts his arms off, so really Ephraim wins. This is not the real ending. It was just a test — a test of you, dear reader. The actual play ends with Eben and Abbie going off with the sheriff to pay their debt to society for the horrible crime they have committed. I’ll not say what the crime was, because I know you’re still reading, dear reader, even though you’ve neither read nor seen the play. But anyway, I was rather hoping for a bit more death. Sending the protagonists to prison is a silly way to end a play that attempts to apply Greek tragedy (Hippolytus, in this case) to 19th-century New England family life. Come on, O’Neill! In the words of Nas: Kill, kill, kill; murder, murder, murder.

This entry was posted on 04 May 2009 at 5:40 pm and is filed under Raspy Thoughts. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments.

Tags: boulders, brian dennehy, broadway, carla gugino, desire under the elms, eugene o'neill, is a babe, pablo schreiber, spy kids