TRUE WEST will run April 17th -
May 22nd
@
The Chopin Theater
1543 W. Division
Wildly watchable 'True West' explores battle of brothers
April 20, 2005
BY HEDY WEISS Theater Critic
HIGHLY RECOMMENDED
Consider this delicious little twist of Chicago theatrical history: At the
very moment that Sam Shepard's "True West" -- the play that set the young
John Malkovich on the road to celebrity -- is being revived in high style by
the Hypocrites, the youthful company that injects fresh life into the 20th
century dramatic rep, Malkovich himself is over on the Steppenwolf mainstage.
And there he is portraying a middle-aged European aristocrat who sips fine
Hungarian wine -- a continent and a generation away from his days as the
sweaty, typewriter-bashing, toast-eating, beer-swilling, semipsychotic
brother in Shepard's play.
As for the "new boys" -- and "True West" is all about the relationship
between a pair of brothers -- they don't miss a beat. Nor does director
Geoff Button (also an excellent actor, as he demonstrated in the recent "Equus"),
who makes sure his cast hits every crucial beat -- capturing the tense
rhythms of the play's menacing dialogue and edgy moves.
At once pitch black and deadly comic, "True West" may not be a great
play, but it is a hugely entertaining, wildly actable one. And just as the
fabled 1980s version lodged in the minds of all those lucky enough to have
seen it (remember Malkovich wielding his golf club on that typewriter?), the
Hypocrites' revival is sure to bring fresh converts (and toaster jokes).
It all unfolds in the spotless southern California kitchen of a
middle-class home straight out of a Sears catalog. It is there that Austin
(Brad Harbaugh), an insecure but established screenwriter, is putting the
finishing touches on his latest screenplay while house-sitting for his
mother, who is on vacation in Alaska. And it is there that he is seriously
interrupted by his feral loser of a brother, Lee (Paul Noble), who just
drops in after weeks of living in the desert.
Austin is the successful brother -- Ivy League education, wife, kids,
house, good salary, discipline. Lee is the volcanic failure -- bitter, full
of rage, desperate, uninhibited, dangerous. And push comes to shove when
Saul Kimmer (Gregory Hardigan), a slick and malleable Hollywood producer,
stops by for a meeting with Austin.
With less than nothing to lose, Lee pitches his own story idea -- a crazy
updated Western far more commercial, and far more rooted in "real life" and
primal emotions, than anything the all-too-civilized Austin could devise.
War is declared, and well before it's over the two brothers -- each
profoundly envious of the other --begin to subtly shift places. (It is worth
remembering that in the recent Off-Broadway revival of the show, actors
Philip Seymour Hoffman and John C. Reilly alternated roles during the show's
run.)
Looming large in the background, yet unseen -- as is often the case in
Shepard's plays -- is the brothers' father, a broken alcoholic who also
lives on the desert in a state of advanced decay. The fear -- or the
inevitable fate -- of the sons turning into their father hangs heavily in
the air. And with that fear comes guilt and anger.
The Old Testment-style clash of brothers is key. But so are notions of
creativity: Is it rooted in an adventurous, instinctive, chaotic mind,
Shepard wonders, or a more cerebral, disciplined one?
The playwright's obsession with questions of art vs. commerce -- and just
what the movies should be about -- are in full flower here. And he captures
the phenomenon of the celebrity artist to bizarre and tragicomic effect in
the speech by the boys' mom (a perfectly shell-shocked Kay Schmitt) about a
Picasso exhibit coming to town.
And about those brothers: Harbaugh and Noble are a marvelous match. Noble
(in the Malkovich role) has the showier part as Lee, the scruffy, bearded
home-demolition expert who thrives on being outrageous yet secretly yearns
for the good life. He is a wonderful mix of the unpredictably homicidal and
the laconically charming. And Harbaugh -- as the brother who has opted for
the safe life but craves a taste of raw authenticity -- is a big surprise as
he morphs, entirely believably, into what may be Austin's truer self.
Sean Graney, the Hypocrites' artistic director, has designed a superb
set, a genteel, stone-walled bungalow with patio where the drip, drip, drip
of water -- along with the hum of crickets and the snap of pop-top beer cans
-- creates a perfect din.
John Malkovich is everywhere, even where he's not. While the actor continues
his run in "Lost Land" at Steppenwolf Theatre, ghostly reminders of an
indelible Malkovich performance from a generation ago haunt each new
performer undertaking the role, whenever a revival of "True West" surfaces.
The latest "True West" in Chicago comes courtesy of The Hypocrites,
performing in the basement space of Wicker Park's Chopin Theatre. It's an
entertaining production, and the strongest element along with Sean
Graney's droll scenic design, depicting a Carter-era Southern California
kitchen and Astroturfed patio is Paul Noble's performance as Lee. This is
the role Malkovich played opposite Gary Sinise in Sam Shepard's 1980 play,
produced in 1982 by Steppenwolf.
Most actors tend to respond well to volatile sociopaths. Noble is one of
them. After disappearing into the bland woodwork of "Paragon Springs," a
recent TimeLine Theatre show, here he's all fire and purpose, aggression
with a dash of hurt.
Noble's smart enough to stop short of Malkoviching it up. He and director
Geoff Button know that way lies potentially tiresome madness. The funny
thing is, Malkovich realizes it too: In "Lost Land" Malkovich is doing his
honorable, level, rather dutiful best to portray a conflicted liberal
idealist. Better than anybody, Malkovich knows he can't "Do Malkovich" when
it doesn't make sense. Otherwise he'd end up playing Lee in "True West" no
matter who he was playing.
Shepard's play remains a rock-solid slippery slope, a comic indictment of
Hollywood that transcends the usual Hollywood-is-evil cliches. (It is
evil, but still.) Struggling screenwriter Austin (Brad Harbaugh) is
housesitting for his vacationing mother (Kay Schmitt). Brother Lee has
arrived unexpectedly, a burglar and a refugee of the Mohave at odds with the
west Los Angeles has become. The brothers' father is a potent offstage
presence, a destitute drunk. There's a little of the old man in Austin, and
little more of him in Lee.
Shepard's plot is a simple reversal of fortune, beautifully sustained: With
a touching sort of inevitability, Lee doesn't just befriend Austin's
producer (Gregory Hardigan), he sells him his idea for a contemporary
western, zooming his brother at his own game. By the time "True West"
reaches its tantalizingly open-ended conclusion, the brothers have become
the characters in Lee's story, out for blood but suffused in regret.
Noble and Schmitt, the latter doing nuanced work in a small and somewhat
thin role, are very good. Harbaugh's Austin is vaguely defined; it's the
tougher of the brother roles, to be sure, but this performance needs some
sharper edges. Harbaugh does, however, come alive when the violence (however
tentatively choreographed) kicks in.
As for Graney's primo scenic design, it is topped, subtly, by a trickly
fake-waterfall on the flagstone walls a perfect lying image of an endless
Southern California water supply.
mjphillips@tribune.com
The Reader: Critic's Pick
TRUE WEST
I've seen this play so many times I can practically repeat
the lines with the actors. Sam Shepard's 1980 drama about the reunion of two
brothers, one a weak, respectable suburbanite and the other an untamed
animal, is frequently revived, usually by recent college graduates. Seldom
has it been done by anyone, however, as well as it is by the Hypocrites in
this smartly directed, intensely acted production. Key to its success are
two young but seasoned actors, Brad Harbaugh and Paul Noble. Too often the
brothers are played by performers so out of sync with each other that they
don't seem like members of the same species, much less the same family. But
with these two, every glance and gesture and word they exchange seethes with
a lifetime of unfinished business. Noble in particular plays the volatile,
deeply wounded Lee with such half-hidden menace and fury you don't dare take
your eyes off him for fear he'll pounce. Yet for all his magnetism, he never
goes over the top. The direction, too, is first-rate. Geoff Button avoids
the self-indulgent pauses that bloat neophyte productions--the actors strike
fast and hard, performing the piece at such a clip you don't have time to
think. Through 5/22: Thu-Sat 8 PM, Sun 7 PM. Chopin Theatre, 1543 W.
Division, 312-409-5578. $15-$20. --Jack Helbig
New City:
Who knew Sam Shepard's
"True West" was just one big joke? iN fact, it isn't. But drained of the
scary bile inherent in the script, the play lacks emotional resonance and
begins to resemble something like sketch comedy. In the Hypocrites
production directed by Geoff Button, the tenuous relationship between
brothers Austin (a screenwriter with an Ivy League education) and Lee (a
thief and a screw-up) positively combusts over the course of two days, but
you never really worry about either man or the violence simmering just
beneath the surface. This is, notably, a rare Hypocrites production not
directed by artistic director Sean Graney, although he designed the set, a
bi-level kitchen/breakfast nook that is some of his finest work as a
designer. While Button clearly knows how to pace and block a scene for
maximum impact, he is missing Graney's careful attention to the narrative
itself. In the end, the production feels like a cliché, the ghosts of famous
productions John Malkovich and Gary Sinise in a career-making Niew York
revival in 1982; Phillip Seymour Hoffman and John C. Reilly alternating the
roles on Broadway in 2000 hovering around like so many useless toasters
pilfered from unsuspecting neighbors. Nina Metz.
Windy City Times:
Theater: True West
by MARY SHEN BARNIDGE
2005-04-27
Playwright: Sam Shepard
At: The Hypocrites at the Chopin Theatre Studio, 1543 division
Phone: ( 312 ) 409-5578; $15-$20
Runs through: May 22
The myths of the American West, as handed down by Hollywood, are based in
the eternal battle between civilization and savagerythe former, represented
by good citizens with homes and families, and the latter, by rootless
foreigners. But as Native Americans waned in their threat to peaceful
settlers, the asocial Outlaw assumed the role of barbaric invader, and the
town sheriff the task of upholding community values. Since both archetypes
have their attractions, narrative tension would arise from our heroıs
struggle to follow the Right Path.
Wide open spaces being considerably reduced by 1980, Sam Shepard recounts
the familiar yarn with appropriate efficiency. Our immediate environment is
a tidy house in a California suburb, filled with potted plants and electric
appliances, and sporting an artificial waterfall on the patio. Offstage,
however, we hear the sounds of wild animalscrickets and coyotes. We meet a
pair of brothers, the sons of an art-loving mother and a hard-drinking
father. Austin is a writer, busily working on a chick-flick screenplay. Lee
is a burglar, recently encamped in the desert. But as the play goes on, both
men show an astonishing ease at adapting to the otherıs lifestyle.
So are they really TWO guys? Or do they symbolize the American maleıs
ambivalence over his function in modern society? Or is Lee the embodiment of
the amoral infant lurking in EVERY superego-dominated adult? Geoff Button
directs a contemplative interpretation of Shepardıs enigmatic parable, its
legendary boys-making-messes spectacle emerging only when the text demands.
And if this restraint rendered its opening night a bit stiff, with Gregory
Hardigan, as a Beverly Hills greedhead, and Kay Schmitt, as the dotty
matriarch, seeming unsure of their characters, Paul Noble and Brad Harbaugh
nevertheless generate the psychological connections required to render the
playıs final entropic showdown plausible in light of the events that precede
it.
Chicago playgoers with personal recollectionsreal or imaginedof that OTHER
True West, 23 years ago, are advised to set aside their visceral
preconceptions. The Hypocritesı thoughtful exploration of fraternal dynamics
needs no nostalgia to bolster its infectious appeal.
Gay Chicago:
TRUE WEST
- reviewed by Venus
Zarris
Perhaps I am extremely jaded or perhaps my personal family dysfunction just
makes me damaged goods, but when I see a story that delves into sibling
breakdown on an emotionally and physically dangerous level, I want to be
ravaged.
When I was very young and my parents would leave the house to go to the
store, my older siblings would go into ³war mode² as soon as our car was out
of sight. Screaming would start, and then the knife drawer would open. A
cutlery-wielding chase would ensue through the house. As soon as my parentıs
car pulled up, truce would be automatically declared, and a peace would fall
over the land. It wasnıt until I laughingly told this story to my therapist
one day and, realizing that she had a look of horror on her face, came to
the conclusion that this was perhaps not healthy.
The Hypocrites deliver a solid production of Sam Shepardıs ³True West.² The
cast is mostly good, the technical elements are great, and the sound design
is excellent, but the fight choreography by Matt Hawkins is awkward and
unbelievable, and Geoff Buttonıs direction, although beautifully nuanced in
many scenes, holds way too much back to truly deliver the full impact of
family madness. In so many instances, restraint is what makes the artist,
but when you are depicting fits and starts of maniacal lunacy, restraint is
what makes it hokey.
Paul Noble is severe as Lee, a drifter hood of an older brother. He looks
great in the role, especially his bad-ass side burns and slicked-back hair,
which would be the envy of any wannabe thug. Brad Harbaugh is tender as the
acquiescing younger brother, but his characterization is slightly
telegraphed. Gregory Hardigan is goofy and unconvincing as Saul, the film
producer who inadvertently pits brother against brother when he chooses
oneıs story idea over the other. He often seems to be on the verge of
laughing, giving off a feeling of discomfort to his performance. Kay Schmitt
looks good but is too detached as the mother. When she returns to find that
her sons have trashed her home, she is dazed. Perhaps played for comic
effect, her lack of reaction to the violence that ensues detracts from the
potentially climactic ending of the play.
It is an often entertaining production but never delivers the convincingly
frightening explosions that it foreshadows. Even though you see the blows
coming, you should be too paralyzed to duck. But the characters, although
interesting, never fully engage. My last note while watching the performance
was, ³boys fight, blah blah blah.² (**1/2)
present