Friday, February 8, 2019

Secrets and Lies

Love may be one of the strangest emotions a human being can experience. If lucky, two or more people may fall in love and build a life together, convinced that they have found the bashert (destiny) that was in their future. Whether they are high school sweethearts who grew up together and could never imagine being separated or lovers who become best friends willing to work together to meet any challenges that arise, playing for the long haul requires a great deal of patience and a lot more trust than lust.

Some people have thrilling love affairs while traveling (a few airline pilots have been busted for keeping separate families in different cities). I still have memories of Dickie Burdick, a gay man I knew in Rhode Island who was the eternal optimist. Every month (fully confident that his latest Prince Charming was "the one"), he would introduce his "next husband" to a close circle of friends who knew better. I used to tease a bartender friend who specialized in brief flings with tourists that he only dated gay men who arrived in San Francisco on a two-week excursion fare.


Alas, not every love story has a happy ending. Unable to live with their own misery, some people develop an unnatural need to destroy the person they love the most. News reports are filled with tales of domestic violence stemming from jealousy, substance abuse, or post-traumatic stress disorder. Some families are destroyed by a murder-suicide; others are shattered by drunk drivers, drownings, natural disasters, plane crashes, and children who find and accidentally discharge loaded weapons.

Sometimes couples counseling can help. At other times, couples amicably agree to separate. The sad truth is that some people simply can't handle love.
  • When one partner is a free spirit who enjoys flirting and being the center of attention while the other prefers strict monogamy, conflict is bound to arise.
  • When one partner holds all the financial power in a relationship but the other is haunted by feelings of financial insecurity, the imbalance can weigh heavily on their shared domesticity.
  • When one partner uses the silent treatment as a weapon, a failure to communicate can tear a relationship to shreds.
  • When infatuation and puppy love are deflated by the brutal realities of trying to live together, love can fly out the window.

In Shakespeare's comedy, A Midsummer Night's Dream, Lysander tells Hermia that "the course of true love never did run smooth." However, as I exited the theatre after a recent performance, I overheard a man ask the usher "Where's the nearest place I can go to slit my wrists?"

* * * * * * * * *
The play in question was Creditors by August Strindberg. Written in 1888, it is about emotional and empathic (as opposed to financial) bankruptcy. Powerfully directed by Barbara Damashek, it is now receiving a stunning production from the Aurora Theatre Company that leaves audiences shocked by the virulent unleashing of one man's unbridled misogyny toward his former wife coupled with his insidious determination to destroy her second husband's happiness.

If you thought eating a forbidden apple in the Garden of Eden could prove disastrous, Strindberg would respectfully like you to hold his beer. Never one to mince words, the Swedish playwright regarded his personal misogyny as “the reverse image of a terrible desire for the other sex.” As Aurora's artistic director, Tom Ross, explains:
“Strindberg thought Creditors to be a more successful work than Miss Julie. Barbara Damashek, staff members, and I have talked at length about why to present this play now. The country is currently in the midst of the #MeToo movement and impassioned discussions about ‘toxic masculinity.’ Though performed less frequently than Miss Julie, it is believed to have inspired many playwrights including Tennessee Williams, Edward Albee, and Harold Pinter. Likewise, Shakespeare’s Othello seems to have inspired Strindberg.”
Jonathan Rhys Williams and Joseph Patrick O'Malley
in a scene from Creditors (Photo by: David Allen)
“Strindberg certainly is not advocating for hate or misogyny, but rather raises the dark side of chauvinism into a well-lit, almost clinical view of its destructive nature. Adapter David Greig has given this 131-year-old-play a smooth contemporary sheen yet, having been written by Strindberg, it still cuts deeply, shocking with its string of mind games, lies, self-loathing, and misogyny.”
Joseph Patrick O'Malley and Rebecca Dines in a
scene from Creditors (Photo by: David Allen)

Strindberg's play has only three characters, yet they fill the stage in the beautifully realized portrayals by Aurora's ensemble. Watching Creditors is like witnessing Shakespeare's Iago sow the seeds of doubt in Othello's mind that will quickly work to destroy the Moor's happy marriage.

Adolph (Joseph Patrick O'Malley) is a successful painter who, feeling artistically stymied, is considering changing his focus to sculpture. A married man who is still head-over-heels in love with his wife, he has no problem giving Tekla the freedom to do things by herself. Occasionally, he might feel a twinge of discomfort when his wife teases him in front of others or mocks his opinions, but his happiness basically revolves around her wellness. Their "older sister-younger brother" relationship seems to work extremely well for them.

Rebecca Dines and Joseph Patrick O'Malley in a
scene from Creditors (Photo by: David Allen)

Gustav (Jonathan Rhys Williams) is Tekla's first husband, a teacher with the psychopathy of a viper who lusts for revenge against Adolph. Upon meeting Tekla's second husband, he conceals his true identity and, while flattering and seemingly befriending the easily manipulated artist, suggests that Adolph might be suffering from epilepsy.

Jonathan Rhys Williams and Joseph Patrick O'Malley
in a scene from Creditors (Photo by: David Allen)

Tekla (Rebecca Dines) is a free-spirited woman who has published several novels including a roman a clef about her first marriage. While she had an intense relationship with Gustav, she eventually felt the need to move on. Upon meeting Adolph, Tekla fell in love again. One of her strengths is an ability to see through certain types of male bullshit (especially when it comes from her ex-husband).

Rebecca Dines and Jonathan Rhys Williams
in a scene from Creditors (Photo by: David Allen)

Although Creditors premiered at the Dagmar Theatre in Copenhagen in March 1889, the play remains shockingly relevant to today's forms of dysfunctional behavior in a patriarchal society. Novelist Richard Bach famously claimed that "If you love someone, set them free. If they come back they're yours; if they don't they never were." Strindberg, however, offers two devastating depictions of what we now call male fragility (the kind of toxic masculinity that demands payment and suffering for the rejection of one's love and feels compelled to destroy anyone who finds happiness in someone else's arms).

Working on Angrette McCloskey's handsome unit set (with costumes by Christine Crook, lighting by Jim Cave, and sound design by Matt Stines) Barbara Damashek has done a beautiful job directing Strindberg's psychodrama while allowing the actors to build complex and layered portraits of each character. Though Gustav's blatant misogyny may repulse a modern audience, it offers a stark reminder of how far we've come and yet still have to go with regard to gender equality.

Performances of Creditors continue through February 24 at the Aurora Theatre Company (click here for tickets).

* * * * * * * * *
San Francisco's New Conservatory Theatre Center is currently presenting the regional premiere of Jordan Tannahill's tense drama entitled Late Company (which was written when the playwright was 23 years old and had been deeply affected by a friend's recent suicide). The action centers around the efforts of two Canadian families to achieve some sort of closure in the wake of one son's suicide. Engineered by the two mothers, the anticipated dinner quickly dissolves into a blame game made worse by a series of false assumptions, hurtful accusations, and the fact that the surviving son is allergic to shellfish.

Desiree Rogers (Debora Shaun-Hastings) and Lawrence
Radecker (Michael Shaun Hastings) in a scene from
Late Company (Photo by: Lois Tema)

Lawrence Radecker (Michael) and Desiree Rogers (Debora) portray the Shaun-Hastings, a couple grieving the loss of their son, Joel, who was frequently bullied by his male classmates and, specifically, Curtis Dermot (Baela Tinsley). Several steps up the socioeconomic ladder from the Dermot family, Debora is a sculptor whose husband is a Conservative member of Canada's Parliament. Like many politicians, he is frequently traveling on business or attending local political events.

Tamara Dermot (Cheryl Smith) and her husband, Bill (Kenneth Heaton) are less affluent, but defiantly supportive of their son, Curtis. Both families have negotiated terms of good behavior before agreeing to share a meal together as they struggle to understand the forces that led to Joel's death.

Cheryl Smith (Tamara Dermot) and Desiree Rogers
(Debora Shaun-Hastings) in a scene from Late Company
(Photo by: Lois Tema)

Though the Shaun-Hastings profess to have been fully supportive of their gay son (who was quite flamboyant at school), it soon becomes obvious that their lack of sufficient face time with their son may have contributed to the depression that eventually caused him to slit his wrists. Debora has dutifully set an extra place at the table for Joel in an effort to keep his presence real. Oddly enough, Joel's parents are completely unaware of the outrageous videos their son had been posting on YouTube while he was alive.

The muted behavior of Curtis (who is desperate to go outside to smoke a cigarette) is something of a mystery to his parents, though the audience will no doubt pick up on the way he pinpoints a particular moment in Joel's school life by remembering that Joel was still wearing braces at the time. Although Curtis has been identified as one of the boys who aggressively bullied Joel when he was alive, a softer side of his personality is revealed after the explosive moment in which Tamara hauls off and slaps Debora in the face. Quietly (and almost without anyone noticing), Curtis disappears into the kitchen and returns with a towel filled with ice, which he gently raises to Debora's cheek.

Tamara and Bill are shocked by their son's gesture, almost viewing it as a betrayal of loyalty to their family. Nor does it seem to jibe with the contents of the letter Curtis wrote to Debora to explain his feelings. By the time the Heatons leave to return home, it seems as if nothing good could have come of the aborted dinner (although Tamara insists that the offer still stands for Curtis to trim the lawn for the Shaun-Hastings). But then, as Debora tries to collect herself, something eerie happens. A strange sound (which Michael attributes to the building's pipes) starts up again. Then there is a knock at the door signalling an even greater surprise.

Kate Boyd's handsome unit set for the Shaun-Hastings dining room offers an unusual arena for the emotional meltdowns soon to follow. With sound design by Theodore J. H. Hulsker and costumes by Michelle Mulholland, Evren Odcikin has directed Tannahill's drama with care to let the adults argue at one level of volume while Curtis maintains a subdued and curiously stolid presence. NCTC's ensemble is rock solid, with the strongest performances coming from Desiree Rogers, Kenneth Heaton, and Baela Tinsley.

Baela Tinsley (Curtis Dermot) may be hiding a
secret in Late Company (Photo by: Lois Tema)

Late Company premiered at the 2013 SummerWorks Festival in Toronto, where it won the Best Production and Audience Choice Awards. It has since been staged in cities across North America, with a London premiere in 2017 (later this month it will be staged in Singapore). In his program note, Ed Decker (the founder and artistic director of New Conservatory Theatre Center) writes:
“As the queer movement continues to expand and define itself, violence against us amplifies. This is especially true for young people when the pressure for identity assimilation is at its zenith. Despite considerable progress made over the last several decades, it can still be difficult to move through the world as a queer person (in fact, it can be downright dangerous). In Canada, where Late Company is set, the rate of victimization of those who identify as queer continues to be significantly higher than among their heterosexual counterparts. Sadly, this is also true in the United States. The Human Rights Campaign’sGrowing Up in America’ survey of youth between the ages of 13 and 17 reveals, among many challenges, that queer youth are twice as likely as their peers to have been physically assaulted at school."
Hailed as one of Canada's most promising young playwrights, Tannahill offers some interesting political insights in the following speech.


Performances of Late Company continue through February 24 at the New Conservatory Theatre Center (click here for tickets).

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