(photo by Wayne Karl)
Say what you will about Neil LaBute, the man is a skilled
technician. Though I often find his characterizations simplistic and
single-sided, the playwright is adept at shaping natural, realistic
conversation for his loopy, warped individuals. The chief pleasure of a LaBute
play is hardly ever his psychological thriller twists, but rather the
infinitesimal exchanges between his people.
Working within easily recognizable formulas and
paint-by-numbers scenarios, LaBute has brought us The Shape Of Things, This Is
How It Goes, reasons to be pretty,
among others - and inside of that formula, he does what he does incredibly
well. That is, he did it incredibly
well, for the U.S. premiere of his In A
Forest, Dark and Deep, which opened on Thursday at Profiles Theatre, has
all the finesse of a self-published trade novella.
The premise of Dark
and Deep is as thin and transparent as cellophane, hindered, not by its formula,
but by a supreme lack of creativity within the frame. Betty (Natasha Lowe) asks
her brother Bobby (Darrell W. Cox), a smelly looking man on a divergent path,
to assist her in packing up a cabin she was renting out. That the cabin exists,
and that Betty was renting it out is news to Bobby, who, shortly after his
entrance, jumps on the train of accusatory vilification, and rides it until the
very last stop. This family, like all stage families, has secrets. Whether or
not these secrets are engrossing to anyone outside of this family becomes the
overriding question of In A Forest, Dark
and Deep.
Twenty minutes in, I already had a clear idea of how the
play would end, and with that foresight, I prayed that the unraveling would
still be compelling. But my forlorn prayers went unanswered. The plot and
interactions are reduced to a series of pointless fights that cease escalation,
and correspondingly enjoyment, somewhere in the middle of the play.
Structurally the fights all follow this predictable pattern: quiet, loud,
Louder, LOUDEST, reflective calm. Their ceaseless repetition becomes decadent
with a snap of the fingers, and the audience is desensitized to the quarrels
speedily.
Produced in Profiles' new Main Stage, what was once the
National Pastime Theatre, the physical production fits snugly – performed on
Thad Hallstein’s two-level cabin set. Now, with the freedom to construct
multiple level sets, an impossibility on their Alley Stage, Profiles has a
massive body of ‘secret hidden attic’ and ‘unobtrusive offstage bedroom’ plays
at their disposal. But with great space comes great responsibility, and Profiles,
a theatre that prides itself on edginess through intimacy, departs dramatically
from that sentiment with LaBute’s play.
The close proximity is shattered by the unbearably loud
and overly presentational performances. To the actors’ credit, though, that is
reflective of the dialogue, which occasionally sounds as if scrawled out by
crayon. Memorable gems like “I’m so good at deceiving folks” are uttered without
blinking an eye.
Natasha Lowe is the main offender in the volume game. She
speaks like she cannot hear a single word, and given the stiffness of her
performance, I doubt she can. Lowe imbues her language with odd formality of
rhythm and tone. While Lowe and Cox's characters certainly lead opposing lives,
their portrayals don't reside on the same planet. Cox’s Bobby has been plucked
right from the trailer park, and Betty’s voice has a New England twang that
jumbles the relationship although it’s expressly stated.
Director Joe Jahraus' staging does the best it can with
the drowsy material, but becomes fixed and complacent. Betty mostly inhabits
state left and Bobby, stage right – not necessarily areas of power for either
of them, but places of mobile convenience. Usually separated by a couch, Betty
rightly always appears to be hiding from her brother.
LaBute receives frequent criticism for the prevalence of
misogyny in his plays, and here is no different. Betty’s wilted, weak persona
allows nary a second of persevering strength in the play. Her motivations and
actions are harped upon with society’s contempt by her brother, and the
explanation for those actions in the final resolution is pathetic, to say the
least. At the performance I attended, Betty also got no laughs. If a character
is not being laughed at in an occasionally funny play, no one is sympathizing
with her, which is akin to being inhuman. Keep in mind that Bobby, a man who,
in a short but punchy speech, defends domestic abuse, is the veritable master
of ceremonies.-Johnny Oleksinski
‘In A Forest, Dark and Deep’ by
Neil LaBute runs through June 3 at Profiles Theatre.
