Review - A Steady Rain & Let Me Down Easy

If you take a whiff of air somewhere in the vicinity of the Schoenfeld Theatre these days and sense a slight essence of Mickey Spillane, it's undoubtedly due to the presence of Keith Huff's hardboiled police melodrama, A Steady Rain. A crackling good story told with potent language and a couple of terrific performances, this is a hearty plateful of good old fashioned meat and potatoes theatre.

But don't get me wrong. Despite its dark, dangerous and sexy atmosphere, this is not a story of some infallible gumshoe that gets the babe and the crook. Huff's story glues our attention to a flawed Chicago cop who insists he's doing the right thing to protect his family and his best friend who inadvertently betrays him.

Childhood buddies Joey (Daniel Craig) and Denny (Hugh Jackman) are a pair of cops who have been continually passed over for promotion to detective. Though they insist it's because minorities who score lower than them on the test are favored, the reason may have more to do with Joey's alcoholic past and Denny's politically incorrect language regarding certain ethnic groups. Also, as the story goes on, it becomes apparent that they may not be especially bright, either.

Denny, a proud family man - though his behavior toward his wife and kids suggests an attitude that's more possessive than loving - frequently tries to set up his bachelor pal with single women. When one potential mate turns out to be a prostitute who Denny has been providing with extra special protection from her pimp, it triggers off a complicated tale of sex, drug-dealing, bribery and infidelity that endangers his family, leading the hot-headed dad to take care of matters by means that go beyond regulations. Meanwhile, the soft-spoken Joey has taken on the responsibility of looking after his friend's wife and kids, proving himself the more dependable and supportive father figure.

The actors begin the ninety-minute piece seated side by side under hot interrogation lamps explaining their sides of the situation with individual monologues addressed to the audience, only occasionally interacting with each other. Under John Crowley's direction, the pair gives convincing and engaging performances; Jackman oozing bad-boy charm to defend his actions and Craig overwhelmed by a weary placidness that only shows spirit when he finds himself needed.

Beautifully accenting the narrated events is Scott Pask's set, a background of imposing brick buildings ominously lit with shadows by Hugh Vanstone.

Much has been made of the box-office pull of having two actors far more famous for their movie stardom than their stage work headlining this piece. Forget it. All we got here is a couple of strong actors in a solid production of a damn good play.

Photo of Daniel Craig and Hugh Jackman by Joan Marcus.

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Set designer Ricardo Hernandez lets a row of tall mirrors hang from the semi-circular back wall, slightly angled toward a floor that supports a plain white couch and coffee table on one side and a plain white table and chairs on the other. It's a blank canvas perfectly suited for the theatre's living documentary, Anna Deavere Smith, to paint her many portraits.

As with past endeavors such as Twilight: Los Angeles, 1992 (inspired by the riots triggered by the first Rodney King trial), Smith's new work of theatre/journalism was created by transcribing personal interviews with real people and having the actress bring them to life on stage. Never in the ninety-five minute piece does Smith appear as herself.

Now gracing Second Stage, Let Me Down Easy, might well have been titled Our Bodies, Our Selves if that one wasn't already taken. Through twenty precisely drawn subjects, Smith explores how we relate to our own bodies in terms of physical prowess, sexuality, disease and death. And while the subject of universal health care for all Americans is not directly advocated, in this time it is the inescapable underlying current pulling beneath the play's surface.

There are the celebrity guests: Cyclist Lance Armstrong tells how his philosophy of training and sacrifice allows his body to accomplish his goals. Joel Siegel talks of his colon cancer with the same kind of arch humor found in his film reviews. Lauren Hutton observes how social class and wealth determines health in our society while choreographer Elizabeth Streb, whose work is known for its physical risk-taking, tells of time her body actually caught fire as part of a performance.

We also hear from Ann Richards and Eve Ensler, but the most striking tales come from the everyday people. A New Orleans doctor trying to keep a hospital in order during Katrina is shocked to hear how her patients just accept that they are of little importance to rescuers. A patient at Yale-New Haven Hospital is disgusted at how poorly she is treated until the staff finds out who she is. Less fortunate is the mother, lacking such pull, who explains how nurses' neglect killed her daughter.

Directed by Leonard Foglia, Smith's transformation into 20 subjects is complete and seamless, focusing on the speech rhythms and physicality of each person. Recognizing a pinpoint impersonation isn't the aim here; it's to demonstrate how the extreme diversity of the population creates vast differences in what we call "The American Experience."

Photo of Anna Deavere Smith by Joan Marcus.

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