THEATER BEAT
September 12, 2003
Pub theater minus liquid refreshment
Plays are supposed to be more than talk, right? Please, no one
tell that to Conor McPherson. He's done just fine as a sort of Guinness-steeped
Scheherazade, one part barfly blowhard to three parts master fabulist.
It's more than merely an Irish gift of gab; McPherson has the
uncanny ability to give tales of ordinary life the plangency of folklore
without skimping on the chill factor. In a series of mostly solo shows
("The Good Thief," "St. Nicholas"), his male characters
unspool yarns as darkly vivid as faerie stories, as disarmingly funny as any
observational comic. Even his acclaimed multi-character play "The
Weir" is at bottom a series of bravura monologues.
So is his 1995 play "This Lime Tree Bower," now in a modest,
affecting L.A. premiere in the stuffy, low-ceilinged basement of Gardner Stage
III. A sort of three-man solo show, "Lime Tree" has its actors take
turns telling tales that eventually circle a single narrative; the performers
acknowledge the audience and one another but don't interact per se. The result,
under director Rand Marsh, has the engaging offhandedness of pub theater; when
opening-night latecomers knocked on the theater door, actor Seth Macari walked
over and casually opened it. "Come on in," he said, "we're doing
a play."
Though design elements are rudimentary at best, and the actors--roguish
Macari, soulful Jeremy Stevens, callow Robert Andrus--occasionally sacrifice
intensity for self-satisfied intimacy, the production's no-frills single-mindedness
ultimately puts McPherson's shaggy-dog storytelling in a better light than a
more well-groomed production might.
"This Lime Tree Bower," presented by
Seventy-Six Productions at Gardner Stage III, 1501 N. Gardner St., Los Angeles.
Friday-Saturday, 8 p.m. Through Sept. 20. $12. (323) 769-5061.