The Father
Reviewed by Dana Martin
Pasadena Playhouse
Through March 1
RECOMMENDED
Getting old is painfully difficult. Pasadena Playhouse’s newest production, The Father, is a fascinating yet frustratingly unclear story that examines a rapidly shifting dynamic between parent and child as the line between reality and delusion becomes increasingly blurred. Written by Florian Zeller, with translation by Christopher Hampton, The Father is a choppy depiction of dementia and assumes the point of view of the afflicted.
André (Alfred Molina) was once a titan of a man but the intelligence, sharp wit and authority he’d been accustomed to wielding has faded and his behavior has become increasingly childlike and unpredictable. His stalwart daughter Anne (Sue Cremin) is at her wits’ end; she’s looking for a replacement caretaker for André — the last one having quit after André accused her of stealing and subjected her to a barrage of other insults as well. Anne’s partner Pierre (Michael Manuel) is supportive but fed up. As André’s disease progresses, he sometimes fails to recognize Anne and Pierre; he mistakes their apartment for his own; and he comes to believe that Anne is hatching a sinister plot against him. He idealizes his (presumably deceased) favored daughter and wonders why she never visits. He compulsively checks for his watch like a man on borrowed time. Even his environment slowly disintegrates around him. As dementia encroaches on reality, André becomes shrinking and afraid, a shell of his former self.
Alfred Molina makes a thorough examination of André’s vulnerability. Molina’s André is most compelling when he is thoroughly weak, frightened and confused. It’s a well-crafted, powerful performance. Sue Cremin is satisfactory as André’s dutiful daughter Anne but is often overshadowed by the compelling Molina. Michael Manuel provides solid support as Anne’s long-suffering partner Pierre whose patience has run thin. Lisa Renee Pitts adds much to the production, playing a variety of characters with sympathy and strength in equal measure.
Jessica Kubzansky directs a clean production, navigating a clear enough route through the script’s choppy storytelling. It’s not easy to make sense of delusion, and Kubzansky rises to the occasion. Denitsa Bliznakova’s costumes are subtle and serviceable. Elizabeth Harper’s lighting design is broadly dramatic. David Meyer finds much versatility and surprise in a seemingly straightforward set. John Zalewski’s sound design adds a dramatic, cinematic effect and advances the storytelling during the play’s many transitions in darkness.
Playwright Florian Zeller keeps the action intentionally disorienting. Just as a scene comes into focus, the audience is abruptly, repeatedly thrust into darkness. The effect moves from exciting to disorienting to irritating. The story is fractured, abrupt and sometimes repetitive, constructed to reflect a scattered, unreliable, disintegrating memory. Faces and identities of those who surround and care for Andre become interchangeable. Scenes lurch, seemingly indiscriminately, back and forth through time. It’s difficult to distinguish reality from the hazing effects of André’s advancing dementia.
The Father explores the complexities of a shifting father-daughter dynamic as Anne assumes responsibility for André when he can no longer care for himself. Credited as a tragic farce, The Father is ultimately far more tragic than farcical. André, once a man larger than life, is broken, confused and alone; it’s almost too painful to bear.
Pasadena Playhouse, 39 S. El Molino Ave., Pasadena; Tues.-Fri., 8 p.m.; Sat., 2 p.m. & 8 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m. & 7 p.m.; through Mar. 1. PasadenaPlayhouse.org. Running time: 90 minutes with no intermission.
