Michael Dukakis and Dylan Griner (Photo by Avi Kaye)
Reviewed by F. Kathleen Foley
Hudson Backstage Theatre
Through Feb. 25
Those who have watched a close friend suffer through a malignantly narcissistic relationship will understand the feeling of standing helplessly on the sidelines as the victim sinks deeper into the coils of pathology.
For such individuals, much of Punish Me, now in its world premiere at the Hudson Backstage, will be queasily familiar.
But much will also strain credulity and patience.
Punish Me is “inspired by true events,” and playwright Michael Dukakis, who plays the graphically victimized Nick in the play, leans into its sordid sexuality with few holds barred.
The action unfolds in Hollywood, where Nick, a struggling screenwriter from Greece, scrambles for a break before his artist’s visa expires. He is swept off his feet by Damon (Dylan Griner), who, among other grandiose claims, promises to introduce him to his “producer” mother, Carmen (Lidia Porto).
After a series of hot hook-ups, Damon moves in with Nick, despite pointed warnings from Shelly (Jaiden Blessing), Damon’s ex-girlfriend and former victim. Nick’s best friend, Giselle (Brianna Bell), a psychologist in training, also weighs in about Nick’s obsessive new relationship. But Nick is so blinded by Damon’s love-bombing that he ignores all obvious signs. In fact, he is so besotted that he marries Damon.
The love bombs soon explode into cruelty. However, Nick hangs on, not only because he loves Damon, as he repeatedly insists, but also in hopes that his marriage will earn him the green card that will keep him in the country. The control compounds, as Nick is robbed of his considerable estate, forced to cancel crucial pitch meetings, and ultimately locked up without food or means of communication. When Nick learns that Damon’s mysterious late night work gigs are actually Grindr dates, he finally does some online digging, only to learn that his new husband is not at all what he seems — a realization that is, frustratingly, a long time coming.
In director Monique Sorgen’s uneven staging, Griner opts for repetitive smoldering in lieu of a layered performance. Dukakis pours his all into the needy, gullible Nick, but it’s hard to connect to a character so devoid of resilience and nuance.
Rashly (or is that foolishly?) ignoring Damon’s vicious recent assault on Shelly, the disguised Nick arranges a midnight rendezvous with his abuser, where he exacts his belated — and bizarre — revenge.
At play’s end, Nick is back to typing away on his latest opus, his writerly mojo and serenity apparently restored. But loose ends dangle, most glaringly the unanswered question of whether he has actually been deported.
In her program notes, Sorgen urges empathy for those gaslit by a narcissistic abuser. It’s a worthy goal. However, Punish Me does not so much shed light on narcissistic pathology as exploit it.
Hudson Backstage Theatre, 6539 Santa Monica Blvd., Hollywood; Wed., 7:30 pm; thru Feb 25. www.onstage411.com/punishme Running time: 95 minutes with no intermission.
