Playwright: Edward J. Moore
At: A Red Orchid Theatre, 1531 N. Wells, www.aredorchidtheatre.com
Phone: ( 312 ) 943-8722; $11-16
Runs through: March 5
By Catey Sullivan
Ragged, battle-scarred emotion wielded with the blunt force of a club transforms the thin gruel of Edward J. Moore's The Sea Horse into a raw, beefy hunk of a drama.
The plot of The Sea Horse is an unoriginal warhorse—boy wants girl, troubled romance ensures and true love eventually triumphs over all.
But Red Orchid ensemble members Kristen Fitzgerald and Guy Van Swearingen make The Sea Horse a primal powerhouse of full-blooded drama. Directed by Dado, the production is emotionally exhausting in the best possible sense. There's something cathartic about watching two such violent, bull-headed lovers thrash through their pain and finally come to a precarious cease-fire.
This is a romance that is free of, well, romance. Instead of sentiment and coy blushes, we get Gertie ( Fitzgerald ) and Harry ( Van Swearingen ) . She's the owner of the Sea Horse, a coastal dive bar that doubles as the end-of-the-line alcoholic refuge for fishermen whose lives and hides are as wild and rough as the oceans that batter them between binges. Fitzgerald gives us a woman as tough and formidable as a tank, someone who revels in good sex but has as much use for emotional ties as she does for the roof leaks that unleash gushes of water into her bar.
Harry's the sailor who stubbornly loves her, and isn't about to let a punch in the face or an eruption of rage dampen his feelings.
With a lesser actor, Gertie would be little more than a variation on the fallen-woman-with-a-heart-of-gold cliché. Instead, Fitzgerald gives a woman of ferocious independence whose equally strong sense of self-protection can make her as hostile as rabid wolf. But through all of Gertie's squalls of screaming temper and brutish physical lashing out, Fitzgerald lets us know that this is a woman whose strength allows her to survive even as it keeps her tremendously isolated. And it's that isolation that lets us glimpse—every so slightly—the miniscule crack in Gertie's fierce armor. There's no scenery-chewing in Fitzgerald's performance, just howling truth.
Van Swearingen has the less showy part, but he goes toe-to-toe with Fitzgerald in every scene. He's an unwavering dreamer, unveiling at one point a present for Gertie that is so absurdly optimistic you don't know whether to laugh or cry. He'd be pitiful were it not for his unassailable determination to make Gertie let him love her the way he wants to. Given her ornery recalcitrance, it's clear he's as tough as she is.
This all plays out on Grant Sabin's gritty, detailed set, a dive bar that feels real right down to the grime on floor and the spots on the shot glasses.