THEATER REVIEW
Streamers
Playwright: David Rabe
At: Gift Theatre, 4802 N. Milwaukee
Phone: 773-283-7071; $20-$25
Runs through: Nov. 16
BY SCOTT C. MORGAN
Backers of the flawed military policy informally known as 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' could point to David Rabe's 1976 drama Streamers to support their parroted 'loss-of-unit-cohesion' arguments. After all, the play climaxes when a barracks confrontation over gay sex escalates into bloody murder.
Citing this fictional work to justify the suppression of gay and lesbian soldiers from serving openly would be ridiculous. But it wouldn't be surprising, since a recent Senate hearing featured Howard Weizmann of the Bush administration's Office of Personnel Management citing the plot of the Adam Sandler movie I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry as evidence that programs offering equal family benefits for LGBT federal workers would be scammed.
So there are sure to be mixed feelings while watching the Gift Theatre's involving production of Streamers. We can be glad at how much has changed in American culture since the play's debut and its 1965 setting—or dismayed because many pockets of America are still just as backward.
Though set during the Vietnam War, Streamers isn't so much a criticism of that conflict but an exploration of race, class, masculinity and sexuality in the military. Rabe keeps Streamers stateside, where three bunk mates anxiously question whether they'll be shipped off to fight.
There's Roger, a soft-spoken African American capitalizing on the integration gains in the Army to rise in the ranks. ( Evan Lee's performance as Roger is defined by a no-nonsense gravitas. ) His two bunkmates seem to have issues with their sexuality.
Richie ( Kenny Mihlfried, performing his naked duty as brief eye candy ) is depicted in a more stereotypical fashion than the butcher and more straight-appearing Billy ( played with the right amount of turmoil by Brendan Donaldson ) .
Mihlfried isn't fully successful as Richie, but that largely Rabe's fault. He makes Richie so self-aware and expressive about his sexuality that it's hard to believe he would enter the military as a way to squelch his desires, even in pre-Stonewall days.
Roiling these three guys is the newly arrived private Carlyle. Direct from the inner city, Carlyle barges in hypersexed and in a rage about his K.P. duties and his future as Vietnam cannon fodder. ( Emanueal Buckley was just right at depicting Carlyle's bitter anger and ghetto background. )
Also good were the drunken team of Rooney ( John Kelly Connolly ) and Cokes ( John Gawlik ) , who show off a deep butch affection for each other while poetically explaining the play's title ( a careening paratrooper whose chute fails to open ) .
The Gift's intimate space adds immeasurably to Daniel J. Ahlfeld's strong and disturbing production. It succeeds at unsettling, not just because of the violence, but also because of the fact that many Americans still hold so many outdated views depicted in the play.
THEATER REVIEW
On the Shore of the Wide World
Playwright: Simon Stephens
At: Griffin Theatre Company at
Theatre Building Chicago, 1225 W. Belmont
Phone: 773-327-5252; $25
Runs through: Nov. 16
BY SCOTT C. MORGAN
A sense of decay pervades Simon Stephens' 2006 Olivier Award-winning drama On the Shore of the Wide World. Or the play's overall mood could reflect the need for constant rebuilding after irreversible personal cataclysms.
For Griffin Theatre's American premiere of Stephens' working-class British drama, director Jonathan Berry and set designer Marianna Czaszar wallow in bleakness: Secondhand chairs with torn upholstery are strewn about the stage like a bombed-out antique shop.
Yet there's a metaphorical bright light from the fact that two characters are historic preservation specialists. The surroundings and characters' emotional states may look trashed to hell, but Stephens hints at the potential for revitalization and betterment.
This dichotomy is assumingly what Stephens is getting at by showing three generations of the Holmes family thrashing it out in the northern English town of Stockport. Life carries on despite shattered dreams, family tragedies and smash-ups over domestic violence, drugs and infidelity.
For many, Stephens' depiction of everyday British life in the 21st century will infuriate for being too mundane and too long for its own good. Another flaw is Stephens' handling of a character's shocking death, which is introduced like an afterthought.
Another deterrent comes from the fact that the cast all make strong stabs at the characters' thick Northern English dialects. If you never tune into the BBC, you'll long for subtitles.
Yet Stephens packs a lot of challenging acting moments for Griffin's mostly strong ensemble. Director Berry stages the whole show fluidly and effectively.
On the Shore … is an ensemble piece, but the people who get the juiciest dramatic moments are the parents Peter and Alice. In these respective roles, Paul D'Addario and Elise Kauzlaric are utterly convincing as a couple who has drifted apart and consider others for solace when tragedy strikes.
Brian Deneen is utterly genuine as their lanky 18-year-old teenage son, Alex. So is Josh Schecter as the randy 15-year-old son Christopher, who has the hots for his brother's pill-popping girlfriend Sarah Black ( a compellingly sarcastic Lucy Carapetyan ) .
Norm Woodel brings panache to the violent and drunk grandfather Charlie. By contrast, Ariel Brenner's turn as Gran Ellen feels underplayed and undefined.
The rest of the cast make essentially cameo appearances that are spot-on. Christopher Chmelik is perfectly hilarious as Paul, Alex and Sarah's drug-dealing pyromaniac friend, while Karyn Morris milks the laughs and poignancy as the pregnant editor Susan Reynolds. Ian Novak's handsome turn as John Robinson also makes a compelling case for the adulterous subplot.
On the Shore … may drag on too long with too much British reserve for most tastes. But it's also an insightful examination of everyday British family life, which will please any Anglophile not exclusively bound to period dramas.