Playwright: Arthur Miller
At: Raven Theatre Studio,
6157 N. Clark St.
Phone: (773) 338-2177; $15
Runs through: March 28
Harry Peters is an old man, his memory given to wandering. Still, he is unprepared for what he finds while waiting in the run-down cabaret his wife, a decorator, is thinking about renovating. It's not that the owner of the property, or the homeless woman he permits to sleep there, or the pair of fledgling artists who stop in so that one of them, a pregnant dancer, can use the bathroom, are not friendly. It's that other people—people who now live only in Harry's memory—keep appearing, too. And changing their ages and identities. 'What is the SUBJECT?' Harry demands repeatedly, to no avail.
Arthur Miller was also an old man in 1998, when Mr. Peters' Connections premiered, but the creator of such American classics as Death Of A Salesman and All My Sons had lost none of his craftsmanship. If Harry's rambles and tirades sometimes seem like self-indulgence, even in a play clocking in at just over 70 minutes, consider that too little camouflage would allow us to guess the secret of his Alice-In-Wonderland experience before it's revealed to us. For its impact to resonate fully, we must share his ontological disorientation.
Frank Merle's direction carries out this mission with the dexterity of a magician, keeping our attention always focused on the business at hand: a pretty girl stripping to her underwear, then fleeing in embarrassment. An irate husband looking for his wayward wife. A young musician's longing to be the father of his girlfriend's child. The entrance of Harry's cheerful wife (who attributes her spouse's inattention to his former profession as an airline pilot—'all those PLANES') seems to explain things, but only introduces further doubts.
Playing a character who talks to himself most of the time is a slippery proposition, but veteran character actor Michael Nowak navigates Harry's geriatric soliloquies, asides and non sequitors with a myopic concentration that never spills into caricature. The personalities who hover in the periphery of his consciousness are likewise vividly portrayed by the mostly youthful cast. And the jazz score framing the action renders scenic designer Justin Stone's shabby nightclub as comfortable a resting place as any human being could wish.
