Take Darwinism, the shameful state of affairs with our health care system -- or lack thereof -- everyday obstacles for the physically challenged and single moms all rolled into one, and you've got "Pyretown." The Boulevard Ensemble's production of John Belloso's ambitious, but powerful drama attempts to do justice to each of these aspects of the play, which seems to be a daunting task in itself. Nevertheless, they manage to pull it off once again in the second show of their 20th season.
Scenic designer Justin Titley's economical use of the small stage space never ceases to amaze me. The blue M.C. Escher-esque labyrinthine staircase painted on wall gives the viewer an image to match the never-ending hoops the characters have to jump through in their lives. A half circle of bright red, yellow and orange flames embodies the "pyre" - as in funeral - of Pyretown, where the action occurs. Titley even built small chair backs that the actors brought on stage and inserted into slots onstage to simulate the front seat of Louise's car.
The recorded hospital announcements, automated phone call responses and din and clatter of a community college student union, provided by sound engineer Andy Lutzka effectively compensate for details the sparse stage lacks. Unfortunately, they often compete with the real sounds of ambulances, Harleys and cars passing on Kinnickinnic Ave. Maybe the Boulevard could think about adding insulation to their wish list.
The Dr. Rebecca Abbott, played by Linday Nylen, struck me more as a pregnant bespeckled Britney Spears in a white coat. I found it difficult to envision this dreamy, romantic, pie-eyed English major going through the rigors of med school for some reason. She was convincing, though in the three-way conversation she had with Louise and Harry as she rigidly stuck to the company rules and denied Louise's request for a referral for her daughter. Nylen effectively conveyed Dr. Abbott's frustration with abusive hypochondriac clients as well as fear for her job, after being reprimanded for making too many referrals.
A male nurse in scrubs, Matthew Belopavlovich, served multiple purposes, such as a supermarket shelf, assisting actors with scene changes, a cafeteria lackey as well as repeating "the sound of a child crying" several times. I'm not sure if that was the director's or the playwright's choice, but either way, it was an extremely innovative use of space, time and sound.
Harry's acid-washed denim vest and Louise's classic 80's jean jacket, furnished by costume designer Kathy Smith were painfully accurate, although there was no indication the action took place in the '80's, especially with the Modest Mouse playing during scene changes. The characters' matching red tops during the referral appeal conversation effectively connected their otherwise disparate lives.
Maureen Dornemann's performance as Louise successfully convinced audience members of her struggles as a welfare mother, especially when she was fruitlessly trying to get a phantom nurse to wait on her, while simultaneously wrangling her overtired children. Her desperation and anger at Harry beautifully played out as she screamed at him to "GET OUT!" of her house and her life, which seemed hopeless, despite his unsolicited efforts to "help."
Eric Cherney's (photographed) portrayal of the darkly complex character, Harry effectively traversed a broad range of emotions and facets of his personality. He is playful with Louise, luring her into pronouncing Dostoyevsky's name, only to tell her she "f*#ked it up," (Note - the language in the play is somewhat heavy, making Sam Shepard plays look like "Alice in Wonderland"). The next moment, he can snap at her with a mixture of desire and fear of opening himself up to more pain as he shouts, "Don't f*#k with me!". Even without words, Cherney conveys the frustration, sadness and anger Harry experiences in his helplessness as he waits in the rain for Louise to pick him up from the hospital. He also made sure to stay in character during scene changes, which was physically challenging, but maintained his authenticity as a wheelchair-bound young man.
The Boulevard Ensemble's successful production of John Belluso's challenging play is well worth checking out. It has a limited run -- only until Nov. 27 -- so make sure to call (414) 744-5757 for tickets ahead of time.
