Playwright: Maureen Gallagher
At: TimeLine Theater, 615 W. Wellington
Contact: ( 773 ) 281-8463;
www.timelinetheatre.com
Runs through: June 20
Martin Furey's Shot starts with a visual strike that hits on a visceral level. Well before the first syllable of dialogue is spoken, images of South Africa are projected on what looks like the corrugated tin walls of shantytown shacks.
Initially, lush countrysides and ocean vistas dominate as slides flash by at a leisurely pace. But that pace quickens until the rhythm of the projector evokes the rapid-fire shots of an automatic weapon. With the increased speed, the tone of the photos changes from scenic to horrific. In the end, verdant mountains and sapphire seas give way to shots of carnage and urban decay.
If only Maureen Gallagher's drama maintained the initial intensity and urgency projection designer Mike Tutaj creates using work by 18 photojournalists.
Instead, Martin Furey's Shot loses focus as historic unrest in both South Africa and Sarajevo becomes a mere backdrop for the somewhat generic story of freelance photographer Martin Furey's ( Darrell W. Cox ) descent into the maelstrom of addiction.
Certainly, there is compelling drama in Furey's emotional and physical turmoil. But the wrenching, graphic photos of bloodshed and chaos in South Africa and Sarajevo make Furey's problems seem self-indulgent and trivial. We're left wondering why we should care about the demons of a white guy from Chicago in a drama that also shows people are being butchered on the streets elsewhere.
It's telling that in the two most powerful points in the play, Furey is literally overshadowed and overwhelmed by images of strife.
Part of the problem with Martin Furey is similar to one that sometimes plagues movies purporting to tell stories of ethnic conflict and oppression. Amistad, ( for example ) dealt with slavery—as seen through the eyes of a heroic white attorney. Mississippi Burning ( for another ) was about the civil-rights movement in the title state—as fought by a heroic white lawyer.
Martin Furey is set in the early 1990s, a time when at least 14,000 South Africans died in the struggle between pro- and anti-Apartheid factions. In the same time frame, another 12,000 people were killed in Sarajevo.
After Furey wins a prestigious award for his shot of a dying child in Sarajevo, the dramatic priority becomes all too clear: The stories of the people in the pictures Furey shoots are secondary to the problems of the photographer himself.
Further hampering the drama is a ludicrous ending wherein a ghost provides a kind of instant deliverance from both profound depression and drug addiction.
That said, director Anna C. Bahow elicits several amazingly potent performances from her actors. In the title role, Cox nails the essence of a man addicted to adrenaline as well as pills and who all but loses his identity between assignments. It's a ferocious performance of raw physicality and searing, almost tangible emotion.
Andre Teamer is equally memorable as Sam, one of Martin's fellow photographers. Sam doesn't come laden with the emotional fireworks that define Martin, but in Teamer's performance, the low-key photojournalist is authentic and moving.