Standing Guard keeps us at attention

Standing Guard, the first play of Adam Overett's, SM '00, met with rejection over 10 months ago. Offered to the Dramat Board as a possibility for the Freshperson Show, it was turned down, leaving Overett without a director. At the same time, director Andrew Eggert, MC '00, was looking for an original script, having had previous success with last year's production of A Little Night Music. Luckily for those of us in the audience, the two met, perservered, and developed a superb script into a rigorous production.

Standing Guard addresses the issue of leaving home, in the context of departing for war. In the early hours of the morning on the day he must head for the front, Alex (Michael Gottlieb, TC '00) is forced to confront each member of his family, and his girlfriend, to say goodbye. These farewells bring terrifying admissions and consequences to a seemingly average suburban household, culminating in a bittersweet conclusion.

Alex sees leaving the house as a way to escape blame. Since he can take no one with him, he rationalizes, he cannot be held responsible for the consequences of his absence, nor even for his death. While younger brother Jeremy (Itamar Moses, CC '98) remains surprisingly unmoved and girlfriend Kathy (Stacie Lents, SY '00) argues fiercely against his leaving, it is Alex's parents who present the strongest cases for him to remain at home. His mother Terry (Halsey Varady, SM '98) is a complete contradiction, yelling at her son for his inactivity while exonerating him with equal force. Her verbosity contrasts with the quietly intense reasoning of husband Bill (David McMillan, JE '00).

"I direct by characters, not themes," Eggert said after the show, "and in this show the themes are already clear enough." The script is dense and concentrated, and addresses a variety of themes and issues. It is almost as if Overett tried to squeeze too much into--and Eggert too much out of--an already demanding concept. There are certain indicators that this is Overett's first attempt at dramatic writing. The play, though cohesive as a whole, is much more a series of set pieces involving interactions between the characters. These confrontations, however, are unexpected and varied. Most effective are the exchanges between Alex and Jeremy, and Kathy and Terry.

Much of the speech in the play is delivered in monologue, and some characters occasionally stray into a muddy poetic register. At times these monologues slow down the overall pace of the piece. While one character is soliloquizing, another is onstage, but not necessarily reacting to what he or she is hearing. This may not be a fault, however, if we see these inanimate characters as `standing guard' over those who are speaking. In addition, these fluctuations in intensity and volume are necessary, allowing the audience to breathe before the next release of emotional tension.

The setting works well in the intimate--and at times intimidating--surroundings of Nick Chapel. Many of the entrances and exits come from an imagined behind-the-audience bedroom, leaving us at the heart of the highly charged atmosphere. No detail has been left out onstage: the welcome mat is just visible offstage, and the clock on the living room wall reads the correct time, adding to the potent realism of the action.

Central to the piece is Gottlieb's ability to modulate between tenderness and frustration, emotions which are well judged, crisply delivered and very moving. Lents's transition from forced exuberance to solitude is equally impressive. McMillan's physical poise and fatherly voice would command the stage, were it not for Varaday's piercing shrieks and shouts. She plays her role as vociferous and overbearing, adding a false touch of saccharine sentimentality. Moses's high school student is accurate and comic: outspoken and crude, but with moments of earnest clarity. The cast's unity is impressive. We see not five individuals but the varied facets of one man. The relationships between family members are not only believable but tangible.

Standing Guard is an intense play--which is how it should be. Moments of witty dialogue complement a much greater tale of loss and fear. Carried with complete conviction and relentless energy from the cast, the play is both exhausting and exhilarating.

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