The Man Who Saved Everything
Reviewed by Lara J. Altunian
Theatre West
Through September 23
Hoarding isn’t a subject that is often explored in theater. Its specificity in the arena of mental illness may be part of what turns writers and other artists away from featuring it in their work. But its complexity can make theater an appropriate avenue for shedding light on its wide range of emotional layers, while avoiding the brash and sometimes insensitive sensationalism that results from its coverage in reality shows such as TLC’s Hoarders. Benjamin Scuglia’s latest drama The Man Who Saved Everything does an excellent job of discussing the many nuances of the disorder but falls short as a production due to its confusing and often distracting stage direction.
The play focuses on a middle-aged man named Barry (David Mingrino) who refuses to move out of his parents’ suburban house, even after he is told that the land has been sold to developers and that the property is on the verge of being bulldozed. Since dropping out of college and moving back home to take care of his ailing father (Alan Schack) and mother (Julia Silverman and alternate Suzanne Collins), Barry has been saving and cataloguing every one of their personal possessions — even those that are dirty and dilapidated. In the 15 years since their deaths, his obsession with remembering every detail of their lives and his religious scanning of 25 years–worth of calendars (with notes about daily events) has led him to leave the house less and less frequently. His only visitors are his niece Darla (Ashley Victoria Robinson) and friend Chuck (James J. Cox) who worry about him extensively — yet enable his hermit-like state by bringing him essentials from the outside, such as groceries and toothpaste.
The rest of the play is told in flashbacks that delve into details surrounding his relationship with his parents. Well-written dialogue reveals the origins of his condition and the expectations he places on himself — humanizing his actions and challenging his friends’ simple declarations about moving on with his life.
Mingrino’s natural, exasperated form of acting and worry-wart attitude create a realistic representation of the obsessive hoarder unable to accept change and break away from his habit, despite signs that it is ruining his life. Schack and Silverman’s performances are likewise very good portrayals of needy parents whose selfish tendencies shaped their son’s co-dependency. Their contrasting personalities add depth and complexity to Barry’s situation.
Perhaps the best and visually most provocative detail, however, is Evan A. Bartoletti’s design. Vertical, crisscrossed strings serve as walls and hallways that delineate the layout of the house, while allowing the audience a full view of the piles of supplies that clutter the entire space. Bartoletti completes the look with leftover accessories from the ’70s and ’80s to emphasize how long Barry has been collecting.
However, neither the fantastic acting nor the incredible set distract from the show’s strange and confusing staging. Two assistants whose names are nowhere to be found on the program appear in trench coats, which are decorated with colorful doodads and book spines seemingly meant to allow them to blend into the background. The function of these assistants is to add and remove the props that surround the characters — but their contributions do not feel entirely necessary, as most of what they do might be done by the performers themselves. Even more unfortunately, their presence often interrupts the flow established by the emotional exchanges on stage. When not moving props, they’re standing off to the side awaiting their next task, their unremittingly blank stares distracting from the nuances in each scene.
Additionally, Cox and Robinson’s awkward delivery of some of their lines detracts from the gravity of their confrontational scenes with Barry. Their return to the stage between segments featuring Barry’s parents is confusing. At first these scenes seem to be a continuation of their initial intervention in the opening act. It isn’t until halfway through these conversations that the convoluted timeline of the story is made clear. This ping-ponging within the narrative is not well-executed and disrupts the pace of the story, at times making the short 85 minutes feel long.
Scuglia’s play gives hoarding the attention it deserves — both as a stand-alone disorder and as a byproduct of depression and other mental diseases. Barry’s struggle, even in the face of extinction, is understandable and inspires empathy and curiosity; he’s never presented as a freak in a carnival side show. However, the production’s poor staging and unnecessary back-and-forth progression keeps it from reaching its full potential.
Theatre West, 333 Cahuenga Blvd., West Hollywood; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; through Sep. 23. (323) 851-7977 or https://theatrewest.org/onstage/the-man-who-saved-everything/. Running time: 85 minutes with no intermission.
