Schizophrenia and other matters of life and death

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PATRICK MCGARVEY/YH Iverson and Sullivan cope with the realities of schizophrenia.

Since the pamphlet-esque info in the program ("Schizophrenia is a serious illness") gives it away anyway, I have no qualms about letting you in on Jacqui's big secret in Breathing Among the Tulips, by Kyle Jarrow, SM '01. She's--shhh!--schizophrenic. She's also not what you'd call shy or unattractive. Enter our hero, Eric (Ryan Dennis Iverson, SY '02), a hopeless romantic looking for love. When their paths cross in a mental hospital (an ingenious setting for a, "So--come here often?" pick-up scene), it's not hard to see where this is heading.

Equally predictable are lines like "I thought I knew you!" and "You'll regret this. You know that, don't you?" Or how about the scene where Jacqui is on the verge of revealing her secret--it ends with, "Eric? (dramatic pause) Never mind." These excerpts capture the gist of the script. There are, however, moments of redemption. When Eric complains to his buddy Mitch (Sinton Vignos, SM '01) about the temperature in Jacqui's apartment ("I get so sweaty I'm embarrassed for her to touch me"), it's endearingly human. Then there's Eric's delicious rumination, "If I can't be pretentious, what am I?" The thing is, he's not,as that very line proves. A novice smoker who burns himself every time he flicks his ash, Eric is too earnest and gauche even to put on successful airs. In the same vein, the script's consciousness of pretension saves it from that vice.

The four characters in Breathing are perfectly cast. Vignos endows sleaze with anthropomorphic qualities as Mitch, the kind of guy who can't talk about sex without a few illustrative pelvic thrusts. His solution to every problem is "Just take another hit, dude." If there's no available weed, he adjusts his wisdom accordingly: "If I had some weed, I'd say take a hit."

Much of the action onstage is comprised by the rather static dialogues between Eric and Mitch, in which, like the '90s college kids they are, they discuss parties, Heathers, and love. The blocking of these scenes is an extreme example of the lack of movement that often hampers the play. Furthermore, set design is an oxymoron here. Set designer Mac Duncan, ES '01, earned every cent she wasn't paid when she procured and arranged some chairs and a table.

Iverson is appealing as Eric, the nerdy English major with a lovely cleft in his chin. The comedy of the play is provided by Dr. Marx (Abby Ranger, TC '01). Ranger is inspired as the repressed, aloof psychiatrist. She also portrays, in the most creative experiment of the play, the terrorizing voice in Jacqui's head. Breen Sullivan, DC '01, handles the most difficult role well, playing Jacqui with commendable naturalness and, when it's called for, intensity.

And the play has its share of intensity. Sometimes it works, and the audience feels genuinely uncomfortable out of empathy for the characters. More often, though, we just feel uncomfortable because it's really loud and kind of embarrassing. The drama is nearly always reduced to melodrama: plates actually break. There's no sense of subtlety or suggestion: all the raw emotion is out there, and the effect is that we don't feel much of anything. It's like the difference between eroticism and pornography. Some scenes in Breathing Among the Tulips are the theatrical equivalent of Spanky Doodle Dandy.

All of the characters are at least mildly interesting, if undeveloped. Eric and Jacqui have chemistry, especially when they leg wrestle on her bed while chatting--a striking exception to the play's rule of stationary blocking. If nothing else, you want the best for these lovebirds in their struggle with schizophrenia.

At times during the performance, it's hard not to think that it belongs in the genre of the afterschool special. Perhaps there's a lucrative future for Breathing Among the Tulips. Cut down on the liberal use of the f-word and enlist Scott Baio as Eric, John Stamos as Mitch, Tina Yothers as Jacqui, and in the role of Dr. Marx, Natalie from The Fact of Life, whatever her name was. Now we're talking.

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