Scintilla
Reviewed by Deborah Klugman
The Road Theatre Company
Through June 4
In Scintilla, directed by Ann Hearn Tobolowsky, playwright Alessandro Camon wraps a dire message about climate change around the chasmal differences between a mercurial artist and her resentful adult son. Not nearly as gripping as Time Alone, his intense and poignant work about the impact of crime on the lives of two very different people, this latest play nonetheless features a timely theme and potentially interesting characters. But what might have played out as a meaningful drama with pressing implications for us all is undercut by misdirection and a tame reading of the pivotal character.
Michael (Kris Frost) is a glum neurotic guy who, for a living, develops algorithms for big tech companies that support their ads. He’s blessed with an intelligent, loving girlfriend, Nora (Krishna Smitha) who weathers his moods with cheerful resignation. When the play opens, the couple are on their way to visit Michael’s mother Marianne (Taylor Gilbert) who lives in California wine country in proximity to a raging fire which is now threatening to spread. Michael doesn’t like his mother much, but she’s still his mom and he doesn’t want to see her perish in a fire.
But his pleas that she flee to safety fall on deaf ears. Marianne has no intention of leaving her home, and in this she’s backed up by her neighbor and one-time lover, Stanley (David Gianopoulos), a Vietnam vet with old-time attitudes and a residence prepped for survival, with an underground bunker among other things.
As these four people converse— on the table for discussion, for example, is veganism (which Nora subscribes to) vs. eating meat, which is Stanley’s thing— there’s a knock on the door and a fifth character, a “houseless” man named Robert (Carlos Lacámara) enters, asking for shelter from a group of bullies who have beaten him up. The dialogue from this point encompasses this fifth perspective — that of a Hispanic immigrant who’s worked hard at a myriad of jobs just to get by — in short, an exploited worker.
In Scintilla, Camon’s overriding interest is the dangerously ticking time bomb of global warning that we ignore — are ignoring — at our peril (with Robert’s inclusion expanding the focus to our disrespect for hard-working immigrants). At times the play gets talky; for example, two monologues, one (extra-long) from Stanley and another from Robert provide context for the characters, but they are awkwardly expository and don’t flow as natural dialogue.
As directed by Tobolowky, some of the staging seems unnatural as well, with actors speechifying their lines out to the audience or shifting about the stage without apparent purpose. And Gilbert’s pivotal Marianne plays as a mildly temperamental matron of a certain age rather than a passionate idiosyncratic artist. There’s little trace of a nonconformist — that is, a person with a few rough edges, flaming opinions and scars left over from a tempestuous marriage and a son who avoids her company. Nor do we see signs of the things currently going on with her that might be affecting her judgment. These missing elements dampen the drama.
Stephen Gifford’s scenic design — intermittently flooded with Derrick McDaniels warm reddish hues —is elegant, airy, and inviting. On the other hand, it’s rather too pristine, with nothing out of place to reflect either the home of a visual artist — like a painting she may have done — or that of a confused woman or one who breaks rules. Costumer Jenna Bergstraesser’s choices for Marianne are likewise fashioned for a stylish but conventional individual, more someone who dabbles in real estate than paint and canvas.
The production benefits from assured performances from Frost and Smitha, who establish believable personas both as individuals and as a couple. As Nora, Smitha handling of her touchy partner seems especially true to life. Lacámara keeps focus as the itinerant Robert, but the character, as written, seems there mostly to represent the social ills the playwright wants to comment on. Gianopoulos’ Stanley is too self-consciously a work-in-progress.
Ben Rock’s evocative videography at the beginning and the end, along with Christopher Moscatiello‘s sound design, frame a story that should be more compelling than it is at present.
The Road Theatre, 10747 Magnolia Blvd., N. Hollywood. Opens Fri., April 14; Fri.-Sat., 8 pm, Sun., 2 pm; thru June 4. www.RoadTheatre.org Running time: approximately 80 minutes with no intermission.
