[ssba]
The Break of Noon
Reviewed by Lovell Estell III
City Garage
Through May 24.
Is the road of spiritual salvation a myth or reality? Is there such a thing as divine intervention or miracles in a world that so often seems completely shitty? The questions loom large in this recent Neil LaBute’s 2010 play, which like his 9/11 play Mercy Seat, is about a man who miraculously cheats the Grim Reaper.
In the opening tableau, we see a terrified John Smith (George Villas) seated onstage (Charles Duncombe’s appropriately staid, all black parcel of chairs, and a raised platform) with his face projected in muted hues on a screen behind him. John recounts in a long monologue the grisly details of a former employee’s office shooting rampage that killed 37 people. It’s a gripping, potent display of writing that surprisingly isn’t sustained throughout the piece. Subsequently John, who by all accounts is a wiggly little creep of a man, credits his miraculous survival to the Heavenly Father’s grace, and he transforms into a spiritually vibrant, woo pitching religious celebrity, proclaiming the good word and his unshakable faith and worthiness to a cynical lawyer (Kat Johnston), a cop (Alex Pike), a TV talk show host (Courtney Clonch), and a B&D Mistress (Nicole Gerth), whom he brings to her knees in prayer (her gentle scourging of John of while the cross is displayed onscreen is not-so-subtle symbolic overkill).
Slightly more revealing are John’s face-offs with his bitter ex-wife (Kristina Drager) and her cousin (Katrina Nelson), whom he had a fling with, both of whom see through the celestial gloss and recognize him for what he really is—and always was. This is not LaBute at his searing, hell-raising best. For a play whose core is substantive boundary issues of life, death, and religious faith, these encounters are dreadfully shallow Director Frédérique Michel draws even-handed, convincing performances from the cast, although after a dynamic intro, Villas too often sounds like he’s singing a one-note song, unable to forcibly convey his character’s emotional and psychic turmoil. Anthony M. Sannazaro’s video design provides a colorful, spot-on backdrop.
City Garage, building T1, Bergamont Station, 2525 Michigan Ave., Santa Monica; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 5 p.m.; through May 24. (310) 453-9939, www.citygarage.org
See Stage Raw’s Interview with Neil LaBute
