Page Two THE MICHIGAN DAILY Wednesday, October 29, 1969 Page Two THE MICHIGAN DAILY Wednesday, October 29, 1 969 -- drama- American black comedy poetry and prose Thom Gunn reads his poems well By DEBORAH LINDEIMAN John Fernald's company at Meadow Brook Theater is offer- ig two one-act plays--Albee 's The American Dream and Peter Shaffers Black Comedy - through the weekend, after which they will move to the Detroit Institute of Arts for a week. The plays are b o t h comedies, but Albee's has a grimness that turns it into a species of black humor which despite its misleading title, Black Comedy is entirely without. I dont think these are the best. plays to do together of an evening because, among oth- er things, Black Comedy is too long and could very well be fea- tured alone. But they do fit to the people in the company, and of course casting for repertory theater has its exigencies. Judg- ing from one performance, this company seems on the whole wbright and alert, and some- times talented. I'm not sure I've altogether figured out why The American Dream is called what it is call- ed, but I make of it this: There is a gorgeous "Young Man" played in fine get-up by Toby Thompkins, whom it is a sur- prise to see in an altogether different role in the second play) who turns up at the end and who refers to himself as "the American dream." He seems in his astonishing beauty to be what everybody is just craving to adopt in one way or another but also what they will inevitable destroy. Everybody in the cast, that is, and since they are supposed to be Amer- ican prototypes, by extension everybody in America. So I make of it that Amer- icans are both idealistic and vic- ious: Alboe's scorn is as heavy as his "moral" is paper-thin, and this radical disparity makes for a strange dramatic schizo- phrenia. Director Anthony Sti- mac, moreover, has not manag- ed to find a style for his actors that gracefully combines their surface fluff with their latent ominousness, and somehow the play never clicks into place. It is some sore of fable or parable done in the mode of theater of the absurd -- with unexplained appearances, loom- ing unnamed menaces and only scanty background for w h a t occurs on stage. Its characters are merely symbols, and the la- cerating animal-like confronta- tions so characteristic of Albee are conveyed rather than bel- lowed as usual. There is a mommy called Mommy (Elisabeth Orion> and a daddy called Daddy (Richard Curnock - a nice typical American couple. Their talk is typically mundane. Mommy is a cuddly little castrator a n d Daddy of course is a castrate. As he play opens and they wait for a late guest to show up, Mommy batters at Daddy with darling litte stories about buying a hat and going to her women's club. Then entrs Grandma. Mom- my's mommy whom M o inm n y keeps threatening "to send away in a van." and finally the uest Mrs. B a r k e r, "a professional woman' with an ultra-feminine baby voice, who has come for reasons which neither she nor they are sure of. She first turns out to be the chairman of Mommy's women's club and then the head of one Bye-Bye Adoption Service. She finds that she may have come in this latter capacity w h e n Grandma maliciously divulges Mommy's and Daddy's grue- some past to her: Once upon a time they adopted a boy child and when it did the usual things like crying and eatin and wetting its bed-they grad- ually, member-by-member, tore it apart. Mrs. Barker remembers that she might be here after all in r'elation to an adoption. Then enters vindication in the person of the above-men- tioned Adonis who first appears to be the "van man" that Grandma is being threatened By MARY BARON Before reading his poems Thom Gunn asked t h a t Mr. Berrigan, in introducing him, explain his "peculiar accent:" he is British, but has lived in the United States since 1954. And one does hear a slight con- fusion of the expected accents, the resulting voice more care- ful than the American, 1 e s s sharp to our ears t h a n the British. I found it less strange, however, than I did Miss Stev- enson's- reading last week, na- tive though she is Mr Gunn reads well, I think. There is ease in his introduc- tory comments and a sense of his care for the language in his reading of t h e poems them- selves. Rhythm and stress are audible, pleasurably so, and the feeling is allowed to r e s t in what is said. He does not re- sort to histrionics, nor fall, as Miss Brooks did, into prose in- tonation. To hear t h e poems read aloud becomes an addi- tional experience and not just an alternative one gains some- thing. For the poems themselves, I admire Mr. Gunn's work very much, enough to own four of h i s books, which, considering my income, is very much indeed. He writes always with a sense of the language; he knows his tools. His lines, in or out of me- ter, are rhythmically interest- ing. He uses rhyme in w a y s which are sometimes downright sneaky. And he gets the thing right - the detail, the summa- tion; they are right in observa- tion, in consideration, for the poem. Not always, but m o r e than often enough. The la s t eight lines of "Considering the Snail," for example: at least half of t h e book My Sad Captains, to take an easy a n d concentrated example, which I would read for what they say, even if I were not so intrigued with how the hell he got it down just that way. The title poem of this book is not only one of Mr. Gunn's best, it is, I think, one of the best any- one has around just now. It is the last poem he read and the only one which he read without comment. And he is quite right - it needs none. One by one they appear in the darkness: a few friends, and a few with historical names. How late they start to shine! but before they fade they stand perfectly embodied, all the past lapping them like a cloak of chaos. They were men who, I thought, lived only to renew the wasteful force they spent with each hot convul- sion. They remind me, distant now. True, they are not at rest yet. but now that they are indeed apart, winnowed from fail- ures, they withdraw to an orbit and turn with disinterested hard energy, like the stars. with, and then the grown twin of the dismembered baby. And so Grandma shrewdly arranges to have things take their nasty course: Barbara Bryne as Grandma has the longest part and the best lines in the play. They are full of cynical observations about how middle-aged people think of old people ("old people whim- per and belch"; "old people have colitis and lavender p e r- fume" and she cuts through Mommy's and Daddy's sacca- rine hypocrisy with the s a m e hefty honesty. Well done as it is, however, the part of Grandma unbalances the rest of the play, and this plus some sluggish moments due to snags in timing made the performance that I saw a bit lumpy. Black Comedy goes along quite merrily - everyone in the cast seems to be having a good time. The play is built upon a single sublime idea which is that in the dark many intimacies and hostilities that the light con- ceals can be expressed. Things come to light, or some such thing ( the comedy is really white). But the same jokei is carried on for so long that, though at the beginning I laugh- ed quite a lot, as things drag- ed along my reactions g r e w milder. A power failure is the pivotal event of the drama. When the power fails the stage lights go on and you are supposed to know that things are mighty dark. When matches are struck or candles lit the lights dim, and when they are extinguish- ed the lights flicker back on, and so on. The rest of the play is just English Victorian drawing room comedy remade -- rival lovers of one sort or another, m i s- taken identities, domestic tiffs, exasperation and talk-talk-talk, not all of it meaningful, but Victorians talked a lot. Brinds- ley being about to show his art work (he is an artist) to a rich old German art conoisseur, and his trying to adorn the occasion by hiding his own shabby furni- ture and spiriting in some of the "objets" of a neighboring queer named Harold who col- lects porcelain and other tasty items. Obviously the queer wouldn't approve it he know, but unluckily the blow-out brings him to Brindsley's flat in search of consolation and luckily this same blow-out hides what Brindsley has there of Harold's possessions. The stage is very busy, what with much moving and draping of furniture (to hide its pre- sence from Harold). And na- turally the prevailing "dark- ness" means that whenever the players move at all they have to pretend (the stage is really lighted remember) to be grop- ing and stumbling about as well as missing or else bumping smack into other players. Some do this better than others and it gets less funny the longer and more furiously it goes on. Compliments to Jeremy Rowe as Harold, who obviously has a heap of fun in the part, and to Toby Thompkins who, as Brinds- ley, stumbles around with great finesse. The sets for both pro- ductions are by Richard Davis. Starting November 13, the com- pany will be doing T. S. Eliot's The Cocktail Party. r- Tie University of Michigan i l1 h f. ed . All I think is that if later I parted the blades above the tunnel and saw the thin trail of broken white across litter, I would never have imagined the slow passion to that deliberate progress. 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