Mayakovsky and Stalin 

Reviewed by Neal Weaver 
Padua Playwrights Productions and Theatre Planners 
Through August 19 

Murray Mednick’s play, having its world premiere, is a tale of two suicides: that of the Russian Futurist poet Vladimir Mayakovsky, who shot himself in the heart in 1930, and that of Nadezhda Alliluyeva (Nadya), the second wife of Joseph Stalin, who shot herself in her bedroom during a Communist Party gathering, supposedly in disgust at the way her husband’s brutal collectivist policies had produced mass famine.

Mayakovsky (Daniel Dorr) was a colorful and controversial figure, alternately vilified and lionized by the Party apparatus. He was a handsome, ruthless self-promoter, a compulsive gambler, and a notorious ladies’ man, despite his notoriously bad teeth. He was variously labeled as The Love Boat, a butch Oscar Wilde, and a self-indulgent poet. He took up with Lilya Yuryevna Brik (Laura Liguori), a married woman who has been called his muse, apparently with the full approval of her husband Osip (Andy Hirsch), who became a promoter of Mayakovsky’s career. For a time, the three lived together in a ménage à trois.

During his life-time, Mayakovsky faced condemnation by the Communist Party, but after his death Lilya prevailed on Stalin to restore his reputation, and suddenly he became celebrated as the greatest of the Soviet Era poets. Dorr plays him as a brash, unruly charmer, but the actor never seems quite substantial enough to be paired with a massive figure like Stalin.

Stalin (Maury Sterling) is characterized more fully, as a man convinced of his own destiny to be the leader of a socialist revolution and willing to kill anyone who stood in his way. Sterling portrays him as an implacable man (after all, his very name means “steel” in Russian), who brooked no resistance from anyone, including his wife, Nadya (Casey McKinnon). She is presented as an idealistic, possibly neurotic woman, who married Stalin believing him to be a heroic embodiment of the Soviet New Man. But as he became more boorish, ruthless, and self-aggrandizing, she became disillusioned and retreated into herself. Finally, she withdrew to her bedroom, and the hidden Mauser revolver with which she took her own life.

Writer-director Mednick gives us an abstracted, non-linear, and formalized picture of intriguing events in Russian life. He employs a Chorus (Max Faugno) to permit him to speak in his own voice, but the Chorus is also characterized as Kirov, a faithful Stalin follower who’s loyal to his master till the master no longer finds him useful, and has him eliminated, like so many before and after him. There is much intellectual debate among the characters, which tends to undermine the dramatic thrust of the piece.

Mednick has assembled an able cast, including Rhonda Aldrich as Lilya’s mother, Alexis Sterling as her sister Elsa, and Ann Colby Stocking as her faithful but helpless maid.

Designer Nick Santiago provides the abstract set and useful projections of the real life counterparts to the characters, including a gruesomely unheroic photo of the dead Mayakovsky, his mouth agape and his shirt bloodstained. Shon Leblanc supplied the subtly authentic period costumes, and John Zalewski created the sound design and original music.

The Lounge Theatre, 6201 Santa Monica Boulevard, Hollywood. Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun. 3 p.m.; through August 19; no performance August 17. (323) 960-4443 or www.plays411.com/stalin. Running time: two hours and 20 minutes with one 10-minute intermission.