Playwright: Jonathan Wilson
At: Bailwick Repertory
Phone: (773) 883-1090; $22-$25
Runs through: Sept. 5
The Bailiwick Pride Series continues with Kilt, a Canadian play that's not too hot and not too cold, although unlike Goldilocks that doesn't make it just right. Kilt has a warm heart and the potential to be far more appealing; but both the script and this production are too earnest for their own good.
Kilt concerns three generations of a Scots-Canadian family. At one end is Mac, a handsome World War II soldier; at the other end his spitting-image grandson, Tom. In between are Mac's daughters, fun-loving Mary still living in Glasgow, and Tom's dour mother, Esther, who brought him as a babe to Canada. The generations are linked by three things: Mac's old military kilt now worn by 'Tartan Tom' as a Toronto stripper, a love of Scots dance, and just a wee queer streak passed from grandfather to grandson.
Problem is, Kilt is overwritten and under edited. Slow gaining speed in Act I, it continues in Act II for three scenes after its emotional arc ends (with a Robert Burns poem). In between, the audience is ahead of the play's revelations. Wilson needs to shorten Kilt and understate his highly improbable material. In part, Kilt is predictable because the characters are too one-note. Tom's a party boy, his mother an unyielding Presbyterian, his aunt too jolly and quick to air family secrets. More character complexity would give Kilt much more depth.
As it is, director Bo List plays to the weaknesses, rarely urging variety or nuance upon his actors, and not fully realizing all the play's comic beats. When nuance does appear, chiefly in the low-key performances of Brian Pastor and Charlie Beck as Mac's comrade-in-arms (seen as both a young man and an old man), it makes all the difference in tone and charm.
List has assembled a very respectable cast in addition to Pastor and Beck, beginning with alluring Scott Carlson as Tom/Mac. Carlson's more than a dreamy face and creamy bod, although he possesses both (his kilt strip tease is hot and tooooo short!). Ruth Neaveill (Esther) and Nancy Greco (Mary) are a study in contrasting moods and are as effective as they are asked to be, but both appear capable of giving more.
There are some odd production choices. People from the lowland, working-class city of Glasgow don't speak with the Highland brogues that Mac, Mary and Esther sport. Likewise, designer Eric Appleton's delightful painted backdrop is a Highland city—Edinburgh perhaps?—but certainly not Glasgow. And no one fills a tumbler to the top with whiskey. It's sipped and savored slowly. But at least they don't add ice.
There's charm beneath this Kilt, although not quite a beguiling Highland fling.
