The Rest Is Talk -
The Mint Theater, New York City, July-August 1999
Non-Equity Production has closed
It seems that all too often authors and producers these days will cry "holocaust" and expect a turnout of bubonic proportions. Lena Adler's dense, heavy monodrama moves from a quite promising original premise, through an intriguing opening scene, into a quagmire of philosophical posing and debate. A Jewish family hiding in a barn near the end of the war happen to capture an SS-man just before the Russian liberation. What could then be a fascinating study of human nature evolves into a sermon on the evils of German toilet training.
What is a Director to do? Exactly what Alyn Hunter did. He kept the leviathan in motion, never letting it settle on it's preachy haunches for long. He so conditioned the audience that when a character opens a book to quote yet another forgotten philosopher, we actually pay attention, wondering what we are being set up for. His fight sequences were startlingly effective.
Mr. Hunter was aided by a superb cast. As the mother of the family, Ellen Day (Klara) played the long suffering matriarch. Jamie O'Brien was thrilling as Helena, her intellectual younger sister with a secret, who gives us a mad scene to remember. Maxwell Zener seemed uncomfortable in the role of Albert, a brainy family friend (This is a family that could run a PhD program in history of philosophy!). He has a flair for comic understatement, and a tightly controlled stage presence. Lyle Kula was a delight to watch as the nervous, twitchy younger brother. Kirsten Andersen gave a frightening if bizarre performance as the teenaged daughter, Ninka, who inexplicably wears a tattered German uniform coat much to the dismay of the mother. And quite beyond frightening was the young SS Man as played by Denis Donohue, who gave us a complex picture of satanic evil and childlike vulnerability. But then in some ways, the Nazi is the most believable character in this play.
Mark T. Simpson's lush lighting effects alternately
caressed the characters and revealed their natures. The ingenious set by
Robert F. Wolin rivaled anything on Off-Broadway and
surpassed most in it's interweaving of broad, abstract strokes with
splashes of ultra realism. The setting was the interior of an ancient
barn, through the walls of which one could see the courtyard beyond.
Louis Lopardi's original music, while lacking in
professional fidelity, was profound and moving. Memorable was his Hebrew
lullaby and a tear-jerking organ prelude affair as a paean to the future.
He also did a costume design which was well matched to the basic design
scheme of mating broad suggestion with hyper-realism (the SS-Man was
terrifying in his verisimilitude). The multi-talented Mr. Lopardi was
Artistic Director, clearly imposing an overall production concept that
worked.
(c) J. Fred Weiss, NetWorx Art-zine
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