"When famous people go to sleep at night, it's us they dream of, Artie. The famous ones-they're the real people. We're the creatures of their dreams."
"You're my touch with reality...do you know what the greatest talent in the world is? To be an audience. Anybody can create, but to be an audience..."
In John Guare's heartbreakingly human comedy, The House of Blue Leaves, a small band of characters struggle to synthesize their dreams with their lives. They mark the steps in a ballet of longing. Each principle hungers to be known and understood; they languish after a fame which eludes them.
In a two bedroom apartment in Sunnyside Queens, Artie Shaughnessy (Patrick Jacobi, SY '98), a zookeeper cum amateur song writer, lives with his deranged wife Bananas (Shannon Polly, JE '97). The apartment downstairs houses the brassy, sassy, ballsy Bunny Flingus (Leigh Bardugo, CC '97), Artie's mistress. Bunny, a Jill-of-all-trades, wants Artie to leave his wife, move to California and write songs for an old friend in the movie business.
This arrangement might have dragged on for months, but an uncanny string of coincidences necessitates abrupt action. On the same winter day in 1965, the Pope makes his first ever visit to New York, a trio of nuns invade Artie's apartment, Ronnie (Artie's enlisted son) goes AWOL, and a handicapped starlet drops in to say hello. Inevitably, histrionics and highjinks ensue.
Erin Mee, the professional director hired by the Yale Dramat, has made some strong choices. She has padded the script with a layer of physical comedy and vaudeville jokiness. Her energetic blocking breathes life into some of the play's mustier moments. While Mee has helped each actor to craft multi-faceted characters, she does not seem to have extended sufficient focus to their interrelationships. She indulges in frequent asides to the audience when the characters might have done better to have spoken the lines to one another. As a result, the complex relationship between Artie and Bananas remains less intelligible than need be, as does Artie's relationship with his son.
The interactions between Artie and Bunny, however, are unfailingly complete and frequently hilarious. Bardugo and Jacobi are at their bawdy best during a highly sexualized conversation about the meals which Bunny intends to cook on their honeymoon. Bunny has been saving herself for marriage because, "I'm not that kind of girl...I'll sleep with you anytime you want,...but my cooking is the only thing I got to lure you on with." Bardugo, who graces the stage in a series of cotton-candy pink, fur-lined mini dresses radiates a remarkable energy and unself-consciousness. She talks avidly of the high-class life she'll live in Hollywood.
Jacobi turns in a less madcap performance. His Artie has all the bittersweet fickleness of an overgrown "dreamboy." When he plays the piano or dreams of a new life, he appears joyful, but frustration and the bitterness of lost opportunities gnaw at him. He feels a queer mix of anger and guilt towards Bananas.
As Bananas, Polly has possibly the hardest role. While Mee ought to be congratulated for steering Polly away from a mad-woman-in-the-attic approach, the understated result leaves something to be desired. Polly's pitiful quietude, though very successful in the script's comedic moments, fails to evoke the pathos which Bananas warrants.
The supporting cast rivals the strength of the leads. Standout performances include the glamorous Sarah Jakle (BR, '96) as the sweet-natured, near-deaf starlet Corinna Stoller. Maya Gurantz (BR, '98) is infectious as the Little Nun ("Look, peanut butter! They have peanut butter! We're not allowed peanut butter!") and Aaron Fleisher (CC '97) infuses a thwarted nerdiness into Ronnie. Thomas Shaw (DC, '99) displays a particularly Hollywood sort of grief as Billy Einhorn, the legendary movie producer.
Phillip Baldwin, ART '87, crafts a set design which mirrors the off-kilter tragi-comic nature of the play. He sets the action in a high box and rakes it so subtly that the Rep stage appears to be sinking-Artie's piano threatens to slide into the wings at any moment. At the back of the stage he offers an outsized window with a view of Queens over which the sun rises and sets.
That lighting trick, as well as many others, are the work of designer Ed McCarthy. Working with a limited palate of naturals and blue specials, he effectively captures the varying times of day and hints at the pervading mood.
While the lighting may point towards tone, the costume design certainly fleshes out character. Carol Brys outfits the players in a colorful assortment of tailored '60s relics. She outdoes herself in Corrinna's all-gold ensemble and in Bunny's collection of kitschy accessories.
Perhaps The House of Blue Leaves tries to do too much. Mee wants to combine the slapstick of the Keystone Kops with the emotional pull of Chekhov. But that seems to be what Guare wants to do as well. Though Blue Leaves suffers from a few lulls and lapses, its cast has assembled a very strong production, both merry and moving.
Copyright 1996, The Yale Herald, Inc. All rights reserved.
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