ORANGE COUNTY PREMIERE
September 24 - October 24
or Who is Sylvia?
by Edward Albee
Directed by Marya Mazor
- 09/27/10 REVIEW: StageSceneLA WOW!
- 09/27/10 REVIEW: Yahoo! Associated Content
- 09/30/10 REVIEW: Orange County Register
- 09/30/10 REVIEW: Los Angeles Times CRITIC'S CHOICE!
- 09/30/10 REVIEW: OC Weekly
- 10/14/10 REVIEW: Back Stage CRITIC'S PICK!
- 10/14/10 REVIEW: Stage and Cinema
The Goat, or Who is Sylvia?
by Steven Stanley, StageSceneLA
If you are a theatergoer who likes to be intellectually challenged, loves nothing more than laughing out loud unless it’s witnessing absolutely brilliant acting, doesn’t get his or her knickers in a twist by subject matter some would deem inappropriate for the dinner table—and if you know nothing at all about the plot twists in Edward Albee’s The Goat Or, Who Is Sylvia?, then read no further. Simply head on over to the Chance Theater for a production so all-around splendid that it will knock your goat’s wool socks off.
On the other hand, if you’re someone who’s read anything about this Tony and Drama Desk-winning Best Play in the eight years since its Broadway debut, you probably already know this major spoiler:
The Goat Or, Who Is Sylvia? is about a man in love with a goat. Not just in love with, but engaged in a full-fledged romantic, sexual affair with said Sylvia—news which doesn’t sit well with Stevie, his wife of twenty years, who finds her perfect life shattered in an instant.
Albee’s tragicomedy centers on Martin Gray (Jonathon Lamer), an enormously successful and highly esteemed architect just turned fifty, a man every bit as much in love with his wife Stevie (Karen Webster) as he was on their wedding day twenty years ago—and for Stevie the feeling is mutual. It may have taken Martin and Stevie a moment or two to accept the news that their seventeen-year-old son Billy (Kevin Tobias) likes boys and not girls, but in all other ways, Martin and Stevie would seem to be living a charmed life.
Martin’s selection to design and build the “World City Of The Future” brings his journalist best friend Ross (Mike Martin) over for a video interview, but an easily distracted Martin seems to have other things on his mind. Pressed for an explanation, he confesses the truth. He has fallen in love with Sylvia, and the photo he shows Ross leaves little doubt as to just who (or what) Sylvia is.
One of the questions theatergoers will be asking themselves and each other on their way home is likely to be the following: Ought a friend to keep this kind of knowledge a secret, or is it in the best interest of everyone concerned that the truth come out? Ross opts for the latter, sending Stevie a hand-written letter which reveals Martin’s special form of adultery in no uncertain terms.
As might be expected, the shit (or should that be dung?) hits the fan.
Anyone with at least a rudimentary knowledge of the work of three-time Pulitzer Prize winner Albee will surmise, quite rightly, that The Goat Or, Who Is Sylvia? isn’t “a play about bestiality,” or is at the very least much more than that. Albee has far more on his mind than shocking us or testing the limits of our liberal tolerance.
Here’s what the playwright himself has to say about The Goat Or, Who Is Sylvia?: “Every civilization sets quite arbitrary limits to its tolerances. The play is about a family that is deeply rocked by an unimaginable event and how they solve that problem. It is my hope that people will think afresh about whether or not all the values they hold are valid.” Far more than a desire to shock, The Goat Or, Who Is Sylvia?, makes its audience ask themselves whether there are indeed limits on whom (or what) we human beings have the right to love.
Fortunately, these questions are asked amidst the peals of laughter which erupt throughout much of Albee’s play, and though some of these laughs may be of the embarrassed variety, most come simply because of Albee’s sharp, witty writing and his skill with a punch line. (My personal favorite is when Stevie responds to Ross’s comment that “I’m sure you’d rather hear it all from a dear friend,” with an “As opposed to what? The ASPCA?!”)
Both Bill Pullman and Mercedes Ruell scored major award nominations for their performances in the original Broadway production, with Bill Irwin and Sally Field taking over the roles mid-run to considerable acclaim. At the Chance, the roles of Martin and Stevie go to frequent Chance guest Lamer and longtime Chance Resident Company Member Webster, and my guess is that their superb work here stands up quite nicely against that of their more celebrated predecessors.
Lamer (unforgettable as the grieving father in Rabbit Hole) is so heartbreakingly real as Martin and so sincere in what he considers the purity of his love that he achieves the near impossible. He gets us almost siding with him against Stevie, Billy, and Ross at their most lacerating.
Webster, the Chance’s answer to Meryl Streep both for her acting prowess and for her versatility, is simply fabulous as Stevie, her tongue biting one minute, her rage blazing the next, and when she starts breaking things—ever so gently—watch out!
Webster was Lamer’s mother-in-law in Rabbit Hole, and The Goat Or, Who Is Sylvia? reunites them with the gifted young Tobias (formerly Kevin Johnston), as Billy, proving here that he can be as funny as he is touching in a performance that combines teenage bravado and adolescent insecurity in perfect proportion.
Martin completes the cast terrifically as the best friend anyone ever had since Judas chummed up with Jesus, his guy-next-door persona making his transformation to betrayer all the more startling.
All four actors owe much to the sensitive, nuanced direction of Marya Mazor...
Scenic designer Bradley Kaye has created quite possibly the most stunning single set I’ve seen in a Chance production, an elegant, ultra-modern living room that, if scaled a bit larger, could easily grace a South Coast Repertory stage. Kaye’s set is beautifully lit by Jeff Brewer, Anthony Tran’s costumes are character-perfect, and Casey Long’s sound design completes the all-around first-class package. Jeremy Aluma is assistant director, Jonathon Kolbush stage manager, and Masako Tobaru production stage manager.
The Chance bills itself as “your Off-Broadway Theater in O.C.” With The Goat Or, Who Is Sylvia?, a production that could likely generate raves even on the Great White Way, perhaps the time has come to omit the word “Off.”
The Chance Theater, 5552 E. La Palma Ave., Anaheim Hills. Through October 24. Fridays at 8:00, Saturdays at 3:00 and 8:00, Sundays at 2:00pm. Reservations: 714-777-3033 www.chancetheater.com
The Goat, or Who is Sylvia?
by Randall Gray, Yahoo! Asssociated Content
The Chance Theater in Anaheim has a SMASH HIT! Truly one of the finest productions I have seen in a very long time, Edward Albee's 'The Goat, or Who is Sylvia?' will stay in my mind as a fabulous success for some time to come. Having been involved in and around the theater, motion picture, and television industry for the better part of thirty years now, it is rare that I extend the accolade of exceptional to much of anything. This is one time that exceptional is the only way to describe this powerful tragic/comedy on stage now through October 24, 2010.
Allow me to start with the Chance Theater experience itself. Perhaps the most elegant professional quality small theater in Los Angeles or Orange County, the Chance Theater has captured the essence of excellence in theater. Though lodged in a business strip mall, this black box theater is anything but the average black box. With plenty of safe parking, a very comfortable and professional foyer, clean restrooms, the most comfortable and largest seats I have seen, and endless professionalism offered by the theaters manager, hosts, and staff, the Chance Theater has proven that a theater does not have to be the size of Orange County Performing Arts Center to be taken very seriously.
As I stepped into the auditorium I was confronted with an awe inspiring and magnificently developed set designed by Bradley Kaye. I was not in a theater looking at a set where I would view a production; I was in the living room of an elegant, architecturally pleasing, and aesthetically pleasant home. Set in various levels, though all on the same floor, decorated in such a fashion as to please even the most snobbish of interior designers, the home (set) of this production is welcoming, inviting, intriguing, and most comfortable.
One of the great American Playwrights, Edward Albee weaves a web of intrigue, unfathomable dilemma, and decadent reality, all while delivering lines of dry wit that allow the audience to laugh continually, even in the face of this production's grotesquely possible real life addictions.
The lead, Martin, expertly portrayed by Jonathon Lamer, is a man in the middle of a mid-life crisis. He is to all appearances an astronomically successful man with accolades, opportunities, and abilities far and above those of his competitors. Yet, he is attempting to identify who he is, how to deal with his son - in the middle of his own life seeking epidemic - his wife whom he loves completely, and the work that he has identified himself with for years. As a result, he makes a seemingly clandestine decision that he tells himself makes absolute since, though deep down he knows is far too bizarre, and could actually cause him to lose his mind.
Martin's wife, Stevie, played by Karen Webster, offers the most powerful female lead I have seen in quite some time. In the middle of a life that appears to be perfect; perfect marriage, the more than acceptable family, all the appearances of a good life; Stevie is faced with what is perhaps the greatest and most unspeakable challenge to her love for her husband that any woman could possibly face. Her controlled rage is so powerful, so literal, and so believable, that every woman in the audience will identify with her, though they may not want to.
Martin's best friend of forty years, Ross, played by Mike Martin, must decide whether it is more genuine friendship to out his friend's difficulties to his wife, or if it is better to stay quiet and allow this life-long friend to annihilate himself, his career, his family, and all that he had ever worked for. Most certainly the most crudely written character in this production, Mike Martin connects with the audience in a manner that forces each viewer to ask themselves how strong a friend they truly are, and whether they would involve themselves in something this overwhelming for their friend's betterment or not.
Perhaps the most seemingly overlooked character, yet by far the one that is most affected by this dysfunctional family crisis is the role of Billy, Martin's seventeen-year-old son, portrayed by Kevin Tobias. Bill has some very difficult self realizations of his own to deal with. Yet, he is the one who comes to his mother's defense, and then he is the one whom his father trusts with the depth of his dilemma, and ultimately he is the glue that helps start the process of healing; though his mother's rash decisions definitely help to force this issue.
For the first time in a long time, I was not observing quality actors performing a story for me as an audience member; I was the fly on the wall with the bird's eye view into each of these characters' lives, dilemmas, emotionally charged demons, and the love that somehow, though challenged to the very limits, holds the entire group together. It was truly an honor to experience this production, and I cannot begin to give words adequate enough to recommend this show. For those of you who know me personally, perhaps this will tell you the whole story, I will one day direct this production myself.
Please know that this is not a production for children. From the very first words, this is a production for mature audiences with very distasteful mature themes, though done in a manner that cannot be described, it simply must be experienced. Laughter that continues from the beginning to the end of the production allows the viewer to deal with the unthinkable while not being disgusted by it. Hats off to director Marya Mazor and all the Chance Theater Company Members involved for a job very well done.
'The Goat, or Who is Sylvia?' runs through October 24, 2010 every Friday and Saturday night at 8:00 PM, Saturdays at 3:00 PM, Sundays at 2:00 PM, and some Thursdays at 8:00 PM. Contact the Chance Theater directly for specifics and ticket reservations at (714) 777-3033, or contact them on line at www.chancetheater.com. The Chance Theater is located at 5552 East La Palma Ave. in Anaheim, CA 92807. This is not a production to miss!
'The Goat' in Anaheim Hills shows
the beastly side of infidelity
by Eric Marchese, Orange County Register
With some playwrights, you have only to read, hear or see one of their works to tell yourself "No one else could have written this play."
Edward Albee is one such playwright, and his 2002 play "The Goat, or Who is Sylvia?" is the kind of play no one else could have written. Like so many of his greatest works, "The Goat" uses marriage as a framework for its thematic explorations, skillfully blends comedy and tragedy, has utterly realistic dialogue and pushes the envelope with respect to content.
Marya Mazor's new staging at Chance Theater, the play's Orange County premiere, shows just how distinctive Albee's plays are while giving a fine cast of four a chance to unostentatiously show their acting chops.
The focal character of "The Goat" is Martin (Jonathon Lamer), who has just celebrated his 50th birthday. In the same week, he's been awarded architecture's equivalent of the Pulitzer Prize and has won a lucrative new contract.
Most men would be celebrating their success and good fortune, but for Martin, the converging events have rendered only disquiet and introspection.
Other playwrights would use this premise to create a conventional drama about mid-life crisis. Not Albee. Our discovery that Martin has been engaged in a love outside his happy marriage is only the tip of an ingenious iceberg. His marriage runs aground on that iceberg, destroying loving wife Stevie (Karen Webster) and alienating son Billy (Kevin Tobias) and best friend Ross (Mike Martin).
To say that Stevie is beside herself is to understate the character. She can't fathom anything about her husband's actions, least of all his insistence that he has never loved her more than now – even while he says he also loves the horned barnyard animal he calls Sylvia.
Albee generates an acidic, corrosive brand of humor, and at first, much of the story and its characters seem designed to get us laughing, with the absurdity of the situation as our mirth's target. As the play progresses, though, so does its tone shift from humor to drama, from drama to tragedy. Screamingly funny "The Goat" is, yes. That and bitterly, deadly serious.
Stevie's bewilderment is expressed in her tortured interrogations of Martin and her gradual decimation of the couple's timelessly chic living room and den (with each performance, scenic designer Bradley Kaye's sophisticated set takes a hellacious beating by Webster).
Stevie's smashing of various glass and ceramic bric-a-brac is a literal expression of her roiling emotions and of Martin's having "broken something that can't be fixed."
Mazor's expert quartet of actors breathes believable life into their characters. Mike Martin shows Ross as the pragmatic, judgmental outsider whose lifelong friendships with Martin and Stevie compel him to intervene. Tobias is just as credible as Billy, whose shock and anger come as a delayed reaction because he learns the details of the crisis piecemeal.
Lamer's portrayal perfectly encapsulates the words, feelings and behavior of a man suffering post-traumatic stress disorder. Even before we know the details, Lamer shows us a gentle, idealistic soul suffering chaotic confusion over his actions, unable to keep the truth to himself yet unable to cope with the consequences of admitting his perverse actions.
As powerful as is Lamer's portrayal of a man suffering a deep emotional and psychological crisis, Webster's work as Stevie is a tour de force. Shock and sarcasm give way to disbelief, exasperation, betrayal, rage and sorrow, her indignation and humiliation fueling a seething fury. By play's end, Stevie has become a ghost of the supremely happy and contented woman she had always been.
The story's stunning conclusion, something no one will likely foretell, evokes utter pity – for Martin, Stevie and Billy; for Sylvia, an innocent victim; and for ourselves and the innate frailties of the human condition.
After its Broadway premiere, "The Goat" won numerous awards, including the Tony Award for best play, and was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize. At the time Albee was writing it, Chance Theater was a fledgling storefront theater company struggling to find its identity and simply keep its doors open.
It's only fitting, then, that having achieved success on many fronts, the company would tackle this recent, profound work by the American master and give it the kind of definitive, world-class production it deserves and that the Chance is now fully capable of delivering.
"The Goat, or Who is Sylvia?"
by F. Kathleen Foley, Los Angeles Times
Joaquin Phoenix has nothing on Edward Albee. Just when you thought you’d sussed out Albee’s famously arcane intentions, you just may find yourself on the receiving end of a cosmic joke.
Or at least that seems to be the case in Albee’s Pulitzer-nominated “The Goat, or Who is Sylvia?,” now in a superlative production at Chance Theater in Anaheim Hills. For those who can’t ascertain the subject matter from that leading title, Albee’s 2002 comedy-drama revolves around the star-crossed love affair between a renowned architect — and a barnyard animal.
The premise initially seems wholly risible, like a retread of the Gene Wilder segment from Woody Allen’s “Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex.”
Be assured: That naughtiness is just a jumping-off point. Albee, a masterly alchemist fond of wild experimentation, eventually transmutes the gag into a philosophically dense examination of societal mores that is closely akin to Greek tragedy, complete with a bloodily cathartic denouément.
It’s admirable that the aptly named Chance Theater has essayed such a chancy piece at the risk of alienating its patron base. And it’s even more commendable that the crisply professional production is so stellar in every particular, from Bradley Kaye’s stylish set to the uniformly exceptional cast, which includes Jonathon Lamer as the goat-besotted protagonist, Karen Webster as his horrified spouse, Kevin Tobias as their sexually conflicted son and Mike Martin as the dubious best friend who undermines the foundation in this latter-day House of Atreus. In a pitch-perfect staging, director Marya Mazor smoothly shift gears from the ridiculous to the sacrificial, capturing the raw suffering beneath the smirk.
“The Goat, or Who is Sylvia?” Chance Theater, 5552 E. La Palma Ave., Anaheim Hills. 8 p.m. Fridays, 3 and 8 p.m. Saturdays, 2 p.m. Sundays. Ends Oct. 24. $22-$35. (714) 777-3033. www.chancetheater.com. Running time: 1 hour, 35 minutes.
Man Loves Goat
by Joel Beers, OC Weekly
Type bestiality into Google (oh, like you’ve never done it before), and some 27 million sites are ready for your perusal, the first 10 of which either define the term, report on a bestiality farm in Washington, or offer undoubtedly entertaining videos or photos.
As disturbing, uncomfortable and downright unbelievable as it may seem, bestiality exists.
Yet, with the occasional exception—the 2007 film Zoo that caused a sensation at Cannes; James Dickey’s disturbingly lyrical 1967 poem, The Sheep Child; and allusions in shock-and-gore sagas such as Twilight and True Blood—bestiality remains a taboo the arts have mostly shied away from. Hell, even the Greeks with their incest, infanticide and cannibalism never directly broached the subject onstage.
Which makes Edward Albee a fitting choice to craft the Great Bestiality Play, his 2002 The Goat, or Who is Sylvia? A three-time Pulitzer Prize-winning dramatist, Albee has long delighted in placing educated, well-off Americans in situations that reveal the brutal impulses lurking beneath their apparently well-tempered surfaces.
The Goat fits that scenario, even if it is Albee’s funniest play and, strangely, most human account of an apparently decent man gone way beyond the pale.
The news that Martin, a 50-year-old, brilliantly successful architect who seems wholly in love with his wife, has been screwing a goat comes about 20 minutes into the 90-minute play, so revealing it here isn’t exactly a spoiler. Because while that behavior certainly drives the play, Albee isn’t concerned with psychoanalyzing or vilifying Martin or making the audience understand why a seemingly healthy, morally virtuous man would even countenance hooking up with an animal.
That doesn’t mean the other characters in the play—his wife, best friend and 17-year-old sexually confused son—don’t want to know. They take turns attacking his behavior as sick and pleading with him to help them understand what could drive him into another creature’s udders.
Martin does have an explanation—one the other characters and, I’m guessing, the vast majority of the audience, have trouble comprehending: He and Sylvia (the goat) are in love. It’s an ecstatic, rapturous love that possessed him six months ago when they locked eyes on the crest of a hill 60 minutes outside the city. Martin was scouting for a country home for him and his wife; instead, he found a four-legged soul mate.
And while the people in his life react in wholly understandable ways—shock, anger, disgust—Martin holds true to that love, with disastrous results.
In this Chance Theater production, the first time an OC theater has mounted The Goat, director Marya Mazor skillfully guides her excellent four-person cast through a play that could easily veer into the tawdry or the ridiculous. But Albee wrote the play straight, and Mazor delivers it straight. Though these characters are impossibly smart and quick-witted, they are also keenly human. Even though they realize their lives with one another are irrevocably changed, it’s keeping their pain and confusion real that makes the journey rewarding.
As the protagonist, Jonathon Lamer’s Martin isn’t just a likeable goat-fucker: He’s also eminently sympathetic. Though what he’s done is illegal at best and morally unconscionable at worst, Martin’s confusion as to why he’s a pariah when all he did was fall in love is absolutely convincing.
Karen Webster’s turn as his wife, Stevie, is just as believable. Stunned by the realization that the love of her life, the most decent and compassionate man she has ever known, has conducted a six-month affair with a goat obviously goads her into anger and remorse. But Webster handles even the most violent and painful moments with a grace and wit that only underscore her character’s abiding love for her husband.
Mike Martin, as Martin’s best friend, Ross, and Kevin Tobias, as his son, Billy, also contribute strong, fully fleshed-out performances that, again, suggest their characters’ admiration and respect for Martin as a father and artist—even though, at the end of the day, he’s still been screwing a goat.
It’s a crisply executed, fully professional treatment of a play that in no way will change the way you feel about bestiality. Abhor or adore it, The Goat really isn’t about that. It is an examination of the nature and possibility of true love in a morally relativistic world, a theme that a myriad of playwrights have tackled in countless ways over the years.
But never quite like this. . . .
The Goat, or Who is Sylvia? at the Chance Theater, 5552 E. La Palma Ave., Anaheim, (714) 777-3033; www.chancetheater.com. Fri., 8 p.m.; Sat., 3 & 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m. Through Oct. 24. $22-$35.
The Goat, or Who is Sylvia?
by Eric Marchese, Back Stage
The genius of Edward Albee's 2002 play is the way its many themes are overlaid upon what appears a fairly conventional story of a man's midlife crisis coming to a head when his wife discovers he has been having an affair—well, not so much as having an ongoing physical liaison combined with a passion so deep that the man, Martin, can't even articulate it. That the object of Martin's feelings is a horned barnyard animal is almost beside the point. Director Marya Mazor and her cast recognize that the subject of bestiality must take a back seat to themes that have concerned Albee throughout his career: the intensely personal and private relationship between a married couple, the mutual secrets they guard and implicitly promise to protect, the loyalty of old friends, how we see ourselves versus how others see us, what behavior is considered taboo versus what is generally (if grudgingly) accepted. And as always, Albee effortlessly crisscrosses between comedy and tragedy.
Our window onto the small nuclear family is family friend Ross, played at first with jocularity, later with resolute self-righteousness, by Mike Martin. Kevin Tobias shows that 17-year-old son Billy is likewise a victim of the infidelity's fallout. At the story's center are Jonathon Lamer and Karen Webster as the middle-aged couple in crisis. At first, Lamer's character merely seems distracted; later, Martin's confusion and rambling statements only add to his wife's frustration. Webster plays Stevie as described by her husband before she learns of his betrayal: "bright, resourceful, intrepid," and as blissfully happy now as when first married. Webster then bares the depths of Stevie's emotional agony. Her denial, wrath, and outrage over Martin's actions compel her to destroy the couple's aesthetically pleasing, tastefully chic home (smartly built by Bradley Kaye) piece by piece. In the process, Mazor builds up the full comedic and dramatic potential of Albee's scaldingly funny yet dead-serious text.
Presented by and at the Chance Theater, 5552 E. La Palma Ave., Anaheim Hills. Sep. 25-Oct. 24. Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m. (Added Oct. 21, 8 p.m.) (714) 777-3033. www.chancetheater.com.
Albee Seeing You in Anaheim Hills
by Tony Frankel, Stage and Cinema
[Reviewer calls his mom:] “Hey, Mom! I just saw Edward Albee’s The Goat at The Chance Theater in Anaheim Hills. The body of work this company has produced in the last year is seminal to the small theatre scene in Los Angeles. OK, Ma, Los Angeles adjacent.
“What is it about? Welllllll, look, mom, the story is that a middle-aged architect has an affair that threatens to destroy his family and everything he’s worked for, including an international prize for architecture. Why is it called The Goat? Well, because, um…OK, listen, he has an affair with a goat. Well, not just an affair. He’s actually in love with a goat, which he has named Sylvia.”
[Silence. Reviewer redials the phone.]
“Don’t hang up, Mom! Listen, that’s the story, but, as is the case with great playwriting, it’s not about the goat. It’s about the inexplicable labyrinth of human sexuality and what constitutes a true, loving family and friendship; it’s about choices we make that seem destined to us by fate, and the ramifications that it has to the choices we already made!
“No, I’m not excited about sex with a goat. Stop it. I’m thrilled because Albee uses racy subject matter to make us think about the bigger issues that confront each one of us. Of course it is provocative, but it’s quite funny. And just when you think that the situation is shocking, wait until you see how the architect’s friend, wife and son deal with this state of affairs…so to speak.
“Stop it, Mom. No, the Chance is not going to do the musical Cats. Besides, you know I hate that musical. Because it’s only about CATS! This play covers universal themes that allow us to ponder the human condition – that’s why theatre was invented. (Although, a musical about people having affairs with cats…now that’s fascinating.) And the fact that this show is being produced behind the Orange Curtain shows how brave the Chance Theater is. Oh, come on, you know that ‘behind the Orange Curtain’ means’ in Orange County.’
“And the set! Bradley Kaye has constructed a home that looks like an architect had planned it himself. The subtle lighting design by Jeff Brewer has astounding: cool blues shading the hallway near the top of the show; then they morph into hot reds as the play progresses. Anthony Tran’s costumes are smart and classy, just like the characters that wear them.
“The standout performance belongs to Karen Webster as Stevie, the wife of architect Martin. The way she bounces inner turmoil around; from shock to sympathy to humor to anger; at once tremulous and steady. Kevin Tobias offers a naturalistic approach to their gay teenage son, Billy, and Mike Martin as the family friend Ross adds a hint of seediness that helps us wonder what it means to be a true friend. Jonathon Lamer has played Martin before and, even though he had a good hold on the character, appeared more nonplussed than in a state of urgency. There were moments that should have been crackling with electricity and Mr. Lamer chose introspective and cool, which belabored the arc of the play at times.
“This may have been the choice of director Marya Mazor to slow down the pace somewhat, but she must be credited with the design aspect and the ultimate satisfaction you will get from this show.
“Jeez, Mom…yes there is bestiality and homosexuality. I know you can handle it. You’re going to see it? Fantastic! This will be a case where you really do get my goat.”