| October
13, 2003 "THE
DEAD EYE BOY" By Joel Hirschhorn The tragedy in "The Dead Eye Boy" is so preordained that there's no chance for surprise or hope, and it's largely a matter of how director Anthony Meindl creates tension while we wait for the inevitable. Caught in this constricting dramatic vise, Meindl demonstrates the darkly empathetic understanding of shattered individuals he showed in helming "Dogs Barking." Angus MacLachlan's play is flawed and melodramatic, with an unsatisfying climax, but Meindl slams past plot implausibilities and perceptively illuminates the hatred, sexual ambiguity and desperation that drive people to destroy each other. Destruction is broadcasted immediately when upbeat, good-humored Billy (Jonathan Kehoe) proposes to fellow drug addict Shirley (Lindsay Frame) and she counters with "it's your funeral." Billy's graphically depicted sexual attraction is strong enough to embroil him in a nightmare world that includes Shirley's murderously hostile adolescent son Soren (Paul Hovermale). Soren, the result of his mother's rape, was born with a facial deformity suffered in childbirth, and his presence forces Shirley to remember and relive the trauma she suffered at 14. Billy claims to love Shirley, no matter how abrasive and insane her behavior, and the script's insistence on his unwavering devotion becomes increasingly hard to accept. Frame pounces on the part with such fiery determination that she keeps us involved. She successfully projects a jarring attitude toward her son, part loathing and part incestuous attraction. But the role lacks shading, and a monologue during which she makes a bid for sympathy doesn't provide enough balance to make us care if she demolishes her demons. As the irrevocably damaged Soren, Hovermale is believably boyish and brutal at the same time, capable of saying that when he learns to drive, "I'll run over dogs, squirrels, little kids," yet equally convincing when he cowers in a corner after being berated for taking off with his stepfather's truck. Like Frame's, Hovermale's performance is too often a concept, part of a schematic, predictable pattern. The character of Billy, however, is perceptively written by MacLachlan. Kehoe, an astonishing actor, taps into every nuance. Warm, open, oddly innocent despite a lifetime of prison and drug abuse, Kehoe's Billy tries to be a dad to Soren and expresses touching bewilderment when his efforts are rejected and the boy viciously bites his finger to the bone. Kehoe attains Willy Loman stature when he makes a speech selling vacuum cleaners, plastering on a wide, sickly smile and saying hopefully, "The Rainbrite not only vacuums -- it cleans the air too!" Esben
Melbye's claustrophobic room and Younwha Kong's lighting capture the
trashy, poverty-plagued existence of the characters, although Sarah
Huddleston's generally effective sound could heighten impact by emphasizing
background voices and noises during Billy's AA monologue. Jamieson K.
Price's fight choreography takes its cue from Meindl's kick-butt direction,
punching across the kind of drug-instigated rage that can never be reduced
or tamed. |
|
October
22, 2003 "THE
DEAD EYE BOY" By Madeleine Shaner
The eponymous dead-eye boy is born as a child of rape to a damaged mother, essayed by a brilliant Lindsay Frame, hateful and pitiable as Shirley-Diane, a recovering addict. When 32-year-old addict and ex-convict Billy (Jonathan Kehoe) collides with Shirley-Diane in rehab, the sexual connection is instantaneously potent. But Billy has more in mind. He wants to be more mature, he wants to restart his life. Factor in the loss of his job, his lover's shaky sobriety, and the consistently fractious presence of her 14-year-old, verging-on-psychotic son, and there is clearly no happily-ever-after for these two. In this household of social outcasts, the destroyer is the violence of the unfettered emotions of three people who are unschooled in self-control or modulated behavior. It is painful to watch the three's haste to self-destruct. Savvy director Meindl hurls his characters headlong into the path of the barreling train. The sex is raw and graphic, the rage towering and unappeasable, the inevitable outcome of their despair beyond their vision?in other words there is no way out for Shirley-Diane, or Billy, or dead-eye Soren (a scary, tightly wired Paul Hovermale). Kehoe instills the character of Billy with a naive sweetness that is appealing and rather sad, which plays well against Frame's depiction of Shirley-Diane's pragmatic sense. There is a diminution of dramaturgical strength, however, in the final scene, when most of the tension has dissipated and we are left to surmise what went down in this unhappy family. And--except for a brilliant inset scene in which Billy practices selling vacuum cleaners--talky revelations at AA meetings are an unnecessary distraction. MacLachlan's dialogue, nonetheless, sounds like a documentary. There is no question his characters are from the mean streets, with emotional IQs in the danger zone. |
|
|
|
|
| |