The kitchen of a suburban California home has become the site of an epic battle. A typewriter is one casualty. Some houseplants are likewise in serious danger. Empty beer cans litter the floor like spent shells. In Twin City Theatre Company’s newest production, director Douglas Malcolm brings a contemporary classic to Parkland College’s Second Stage Theatre.
In Sam Shepard’s quintessential work of poetic swagger, True West, Austin and Lee are two brothers locked in an eternal struggle – with each other, with themselves, with the looming shadow of their absent father, and with the concepts of masculinity and freedom.
Austin, the more buttoned-up of the brothers, is a screenwriter, housesitting for his vacationing mother, diligently typing away in hopes of snagging a production deal. He represents the glamorous version of California: artsy aspirations, easy money, and the movie business. His brother, Lee, stands over him with an intense gaze and a crooked smile. Lee is an altogether different vision of California, having stumbled out of the desert, sweaty and wired and in touch with the coyote inside him. You can almost hear the song the Eagles could have written about him.
Over the course of two acts (and just under two hours), they circle each other, figuratively and literally, hurling threats and accusations, dodging the truth and their feelings as best they can. They will wound each other, they will find common ground, and they will walk in each other’s shoes before stomping on each other some more. (Brothers, man.)
As Lee, the wild brother living on the fringes of society, Anthony DeGregorio wraps his fingers around the throat of Shepard’s play and never lets go. His Lee is damaged, charming, and dangerous, and the play races forward and occasionally screeches to an eerie halt at his whim. DeGregorio gives an impressive performance, prompting laughs as well as tense silences from the audience.
Compelling as Lee is, on the page and on the stage, this play is essentially a two-hander, a shootout, and it needs the Ransom Stoddard to Lee’s Liberty Valance. As Austin, the cardigan-wearing family man, Reece Griffin has what might be the tougher acting assignment. He must play the straight man for much of the play, enduring his brother’s taunts while attempting to finish his script and keep the peace. Griffin is successful in contrasting DeGregorio’s manic energy, offering withering rejoinders and weighted sighs. I thought more than once as I watched them, “These two could be brothers.”
When reversals come in the play, and they come fast and furious, both actors are convincing antagonists and play off each other well. These reversals largely occur as a result of a third character, a movie producer named Saul, who arrives ostensibly to make a deal with Austin, only to fall under Lee’s spell. He’s a showbiz cypher who communicates in lingo and makes deals on the golf course. As Saul, Nolan J. Rice exudes a kind of replicant Hollywood smarm. His character is a walking, talking phony smile, and Rice holds his own with Griffin and DeGregorio in each of his two scenes.
The final reversal comes late in the play, when the boys’ mother returns home to find what has become of her house, her plants, and her sons. As Mom, Amy Penne enters this final scene and establishes herself as an equal player to the rest of the cast. Mom is bizarrely matter-of-fact in surveying the wreckage, and one gets the sense that this has long been the case. She reacts with resignation rather than shock, and we instantly understand by this that the men in her life are her own personal “Tornado country.” Her brief interaction with Lee and Austin enlivens the narrative and makes the audience wish Shepard had seen fit to write more scenes with her in the mix.
Beyond the terrific acting, the production values and technical aspects of the play are mostly successful. The set (by Kristin Kelleher, with set dressing and props by Cindy Adamek) is one of the most impressive put forth in a Twin City production. With its earthy tones and vintage accoutrements, it hints at the desert beyond the city and serves as a perfect incubator for the drama within. The scene changes, handled by Kelleher and Trent Sherman, are swift, efficient, and occasionally even entertaining.
Speaking of swift, efficient, and entertaining: Kudos to fight coordinator Ernest Emmanuel Peeples (and UIUC Professor Emeritus Robin McFarquhar’s precision fight notes and wisdom), who makes the most of an explosive altercation between the brothers. This violent exchange is well choreographed, well executed, and is one of the highlights of the performance.
Malcolm, making his C-U directing debut, clearly has a way with actors, and he guides his cast to deliver showcase moments. Still, there are a small handful of moments in the play where the blocking and sightlines are less than ideal, including a seemingly deliberate bit of staging in which an actor delivers an extended, passionate outburst with his back to the audience. Similarly, some moments are played so far downstage that they become obscured from all but the front rows. While these moments detract somewhat from the overall effectiveness of the script and acting, I wonder if this is simply the result of something looking fine (even powerful) in the rehearsal room but not working once a play is transplanted into “the space.”
These quibbles aside, the production is ultimately a big success. True West is a modern masterpiece of the American stage, and this cast attacks it with fists clenched and teeth bared. This is an excellent representation of what a small company like Twin City can do, and I strongly recommend it.
True West by Sam Shepard
Twin City Theatre Company
Parkland College’s Second Stage
2400 W Bradley Ave
Champaign
Fri Aug 23 & Sa Aug 24 @ 7:30 p.m.
Su Aug 25th @ 2:00 p.m.
$15 to $18