Reviewed
by Jerry Kraft
This
production of "The Skin of Our Teeth" is a striking reminder of just
how inventive and ambitious Thornton Wilder was as a playwright. Written in 1942,
as America was entering into the enormity of the madness of World War II, it
attempts a storytelling of the modern world by integrating ancient myths and
motifs, absurd contrasts of comedy with classically tragic themes.
With
this play, Wilder continued his search for a new language, both theatrical and
gestural, to express the dramatic exploration of humanity's ongoing struggle
for sustenance and regeneration in the midst of social chaos and moral
inadequacy. His theatrical adventurousness and entertainer's finesse is
grounded in a profound humanism, a compassion for the essential dignity of our
struggle for meaning and courage, for the values in our commonplace lives and
in the context of our cultural heritage. He has an equally profound concern for
the inherent violence and destruction constant in our history as a
civilization, and in our interpersonal history.
This
production is beautifully produced, with a brilliant scenic design by Michael
Yeargan, and
fine lighting by Marcus Doshi, and a first-rate cast led by an amazing performance by Howie
Seago as Mr.
Antrobus, and balanced by the powerful Ann Scurria as his wife, and Kristen
Flanders as the
temptress Sabina. Director Bartlett Sher clearly has a passion for this play and for
conveying its complex and affecting content, but the show ultimately overwhelms
him.
It
is a very long show, not only in its millennial time-span, but also in its
three-hour playing time. Each of its three acts takes nearly an hour, yet they
seem to be of distinctly different lengths. The first goes by in a blink, a
fast-paced, energetic and delightful invention and amusement, engaging us in
the pure theatricality of the performance. The second, using the presentational
format of a convention of the Order of Mammals, sustained the energy and
momentum of the story while varying the manner of the telling in an intriguing
and equally diverting way. The third act, set during humanity's emergence from
the rubble of an unspecified war, simply unraveled. The tension, the sense of propulsive
action became slack and enervated. The play's thematic statements began to seem
ponderous, self-important and rather tedious. Most importantly, for me there
wasn't enough urgency in the dilemma of Mr. Antrobus losing his conviction, his
will and incentive, not enough danger in the inertia.
The
cast certainly does their job. Howie Seago is an astonishing actor, his expression vivid and
convincing. That he is deaf, with most of his lines being voiced by the
masterful Laurence Ballard, while Mr. Seago signed the part, was never significant
beyond being another means of theatrical gesture, another kind of speaking. His
beautiful signing, movement so fluid and emphatic that it becomes almost a kind
of musical accompaniment only continued the physicalization that Wilder
impressed on all of his theatrical rhetoric. Seago has a classical physical
comedy in line with the great silent comedians that felt just right with this
archetypal character. His contrastingly strong and steadfast wife is played
with assurance and conviction by Anne Scurria. She brings a sense of constancy
and endurance to the role that felt like the very bedrock of survival. Kristen
Flanders plays
the role of Sabina with a tonic mixture of blonde ambition and the sympathetic
commonplace, both within and from outside the play's action. I am constantly
amazed by the range and accomplishment of this actress. The role of the Fortune
Teller is also given a strong characterization, with striking presence, by Kate
Wisniewski.
"The
Skin of Our Teeth" is an important and engaging classic of American drama,
and this production certainly brings us well into the arena of its deep
concerns and imaginative power. That this production may not entirely succeed
in sustaining the energy and drive throughout doesn't mean that it's unworthy,
or even some sort of failure, but rather an incomplete success. There is more
than enough that succeeds here to make the production worthwhile, and more than
enough of substance in Thornton Wilder's sadly, bitterly contemporary concerns
to earn our attention. The great wheels of humanity's experience turn
endlessly, and just as Mr. Seago's hands reach out from the stage to speak to
us, our own hands reach toward the stage to find our own experience there.