AISLE
SAY New York
AUGUST:
OSAGE COUNTY
by Tracy Letts
Directed by Anna D. Shapiro
Imperial Theatre / 249 West 45th Street
www.augustonbroadway.com
Reviewed by David Spencer
It
isnÕt entirely accurate to say, as some have, that Tracy LettsÕ August:
Osage County is a kind of
latter-day Long DayÕs Journey Into Night, because while it has the epic stretch of OÕNeillÕs reminiscence, it
has more characters and moves much faster; indeed, in his family mode, Letts
evidences as much of Horton (Dividing the Estate) FooteÕs even-handed compassion for even the most
abrasive or questionable relative, and as much of Edward (WhoÕs Afraid of
Virginia Woolf?) AlbeeÕs penchant
for scathing wit and bitter revelation. In other words, though there are
certain textures at play that carry the resonance of notable family dramas
past, August: Osage County is
its own thing.
The
play begins with the paternal head of the family hiring a new aide (Kimberly
Guererro) to himself and his
pill-popping wife. As played by Dennis Letts (the playwrightÕs father), Berverly is a gruffly
wry and altogether lovable character. All the more upsetting, then, that our
intro to him is also our farewell—because it is his disappearance, a few
days later, that is the cause for the family gathering to follow, and waiting
out the news as to whether Beverly is on a drunk bender or dead.
Whatever
the verdict, both the wait and the aftermath leave the family in the firing line
of said matriarch Violet (Deana Dunagan), vicious and manipulative but, like any true family gorgon, she isnÕt a total monster; sheÕs
loving enough to inspire enough loyalty to counteract the ambivalence. And
thereÕs a lot of it, as she has three daughters and a large extended family. I
wonÕt spell out all the interrelationships here—thereÕs as much fun in
discovering the family dynamics as there is in the revelations that bubble to
the surface when all the paths and agendas cross—but suffice it to say that
of the daughters it is Barbara (Amy Morton), strong, witty and possessed of her own bitterness, who is the
flawed hope for a sense of equilibrium.
And
the family will need a lot of it. For no one in it isnÕt a pathological case
history waiting to be documented. And all are memorably played by Ian Barford, Francis
Guinan, Brian Kerwin, Madeleine Martin,
Mariann Mayberry, Sally Murphy, Jeff Perry, and Rondi
Reed—with Troy West as the local sheriff.
On
a two-level set that, with understated ingeniousness, displays every relevant
room in the rambling house in what seems like proper aspect and relative
positioning (excellently designed by Todd Rosenthal), director Anna D. Shapiro has sensitively guided her astonishing ensemble
of actors, with only one glitch, ironically not one of verisimilitude, but one borne
of verisimilitude. ThereÕs an
extended dinner sequence off to audience left, and in positioning the family
around a circular table, she effectively cuts off the faces of most of her
ensemble: theyÕre either facing away from us or blocking those facing them. IÕve never been to the Steppenwolf stage in Chicago, whence this production
originated, but I wonder if thatÕs not the remnant of a different physical
configuration. In any event, IÕll be damned if I can tell you how, but I think,
even with Ms. ShapiroÕs desire to Ōkeep it realĶ there has to have been a
better solution. And that said, itÕs a negligible objection, considering all
the rest. One notices, I guess, because the rest is so splendid.
ThereÕs
been a lot of buzz about August: Osage County, citing it as an instant American classic. Time
will tell, I suppose, but itÕs pretty certain that after its Broadway
run—which should be long (the PR says limited engagement, but I bet that
will ultimately refer only to the original cast)—and its road
tour—which is inevitable—the stock and amateur action is going to
be fierce. If classic means itÕll get done all the time because actors and
directors and producers will clamor to have at it, then classic it shall be.
Not that you should wait aroundÉ
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