The End of Beauty
Reviewed by Deborah Klugman
Playwright’s Arena
Through June 18
In its world premiere, Cory Hinkle’s The End of Beauty runs about two hours, but it’s not until the last 10 minutes that it grips one’s attention. That’s when Silas Weir Mitchell, playing one of the story’s three characters, looks back on the past with acceptance, perplexity and regret. Delivered in close proximity to the audience in a tiny venue, Mitchell’s nuanced monologue encapsulates the longing and loss many of us have when we ruminate on the unchartered twists in our lives. It’s a solid piece of acting and I’m glad I got to see it — but it’s not enough to recommend the production.
Directed by Barbara Kallir for Playwrights’ Arena, Mitchell plays Michael, a visual artist and art instructor at a local college. Michael resides with his wife Margaret (Tania Verafield) in Wichita, Kansas. Margaret, also an artist, is a popular tenured professor at Wichita State. The marriage is a successful one, even though the more extroverted Margaret would prefer to travel and party, whereas Michael, settled into his job, his marriage and his garden, is happy staying put. Despite this relative comfort, he’s a prickly guy, defensive about living in Wichita, dogmatic when opining about art, and noticeably nervous when challenged or threatened.
One very big threat presents itself when Margaret’s former student Sam (Ruy Iskander) comes to dinner. Sam’s made it big in the art world, with a piece selling at Sotheby’s for $1.5 million — so why in the world is he back in Wichita? When Michael inquires, Sam says it’s to escape the pretense and commercialism that’s dogged him since his success. But Michael suspects that the real reason Sam’s there is his feeling for Margaret, and in an evening where everyone gets incautiously drunk, those suspicions are borne out.
After that night, things are never the same. An opening monologue (Michael’s again) suggests that Hinkle aspires to say meaningful things about beauty and art — but the play is fundamentally about a love triangle and the ramifications of our choice in partners, with the rest just window-dressing. A story as typical as this one can be elevated by a super-interesting character or an exceptional performance (we get a glimpse of this as mentioned prior), but too much of The End of Beauty is standard and predictable.
As Margaret, written to be a woman of exceptional charm (an “art rock star” Sam calls her), Verafield doesn’t display a lot of depth, while the inference at the top that we’re in the presence of a deeply affectionate couple seems forced. The play picks up when Iskander enters, depicting Sam as a slick, self-absorbed narcissist. My first thought while observing this performance was that the director was trying to pick up the pace by playing the material as a comedy. The problem here is that while Iskander is initially interesting to watch (at least more so than what’s gone before), his character isn’t very likable or mature, which becomes a problem as the story develops. And for whatever reason, Mitchell as Michael stays tamped down until the very end.
Austin Kottkamp’s set with its dark brown walls and drab furniture seems inconsonant with a cozy cottage inhabited by two imaginative artists. Almost any other color (or even a set with no walls at all) would have worked better, and it’s puzzling why this one was chosen.
Atwater Village Theatre, 3269 Casitas Ave., Atwater; Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 4 p.m.; Mon., 8 p.m.; Sat., Jun. 4 at 4 p.m.; through Jun. 18. https://beauty.brownpapertickets.com. Running time: one hour and 55 minutes with an intermission.
