BPF: "Save Me" at FPCT - Divine Acting, Direction

◊◊◊◊ out of five. 

I have to admit a certain discomfort with the whole topic of faith healing and religious extremism.  The battles between religion and science and between the ultra-religious and the less religious always arouse such impassioned arguments from both sides, usually resulting in loud, angry confrontation.  Personally, I have plenty of opinions about both sides, but when such discussions come up, I shrink like a dried up flower - my lips are sealed, even as my insides churn and boil.  So it was with some personal trepidation that I approached Save Me, the new play by Stephanie Zadravec, which opened last night at the Fells Point Corner Theatre as part of the 26^th Annual Baltimore Playwrights Festival.  Fortunately, the play offers a pretty fair balance of both sides of the issue, buoyed even higher with an excellent cast and superb direction of Ian Belknap.  The result is an emotional, thought-provoking evening of entertaining theatre, exactly the kind of fare I am sure the BPF was looking for. 

That is not to say the play itself is miraculously perfect. Zadravec's script has apparently made the rounds of the nationwide playwrighting competition circuit (after workshops in Phoenix, Philadelphia and New York), so it is somewhat surprising that some of the cliched dialogue and awkwardly chatty parts of act one haven't been addressed by anyone.  She comes perilously close to a disease-of-the-week TV movie (this time a brain tumor) and a "Very Special" Will and Grace (witty New York girl has wittier gay sidekick).  But, then after all of this is set up, something really wonderful happens.  She throws in several believable, realistic plot twists, and a very keen eye towards character.  The result is a comfortable framework with newly found quirks and ideas.  Thank God - literally!  The New Yorker is not completely bitter and jaded, her gay sidekick is flamboyant, but not a swishy queen archetype, and the Born-Again Christian sister has a sense of humor, as does her completely annoyed, but open to life teenage daughter.  Stock characters with a fresh coat of paint, we'll say. 

It really helps that the play has been very astutely directed by Ian Belknap, who has a natural gift for creating realism within his work, even at the most heightened, dramatic moments.  He allows our initial impressions as each character enters to be our own.  No character announces him or herself, but rather we learn as we watch, allowing us to formulate and re-formulate opinions.  This is extremely important to a piece that could evoke violent (good and bad) reactions that could polarize an audience.  Instead, Belknap allows us to savor the possibility of seeing both sides of the coin.  He also has found the play's rhythms, letting things build, particularly in the final moments of act one and the frenzy of the middle of act two.  Such ebb and flow creates dramatic tension to be sure, but also some breathtaking moments of suspense and excitement. 

Mr. Belknap also takes great care to make natural use of his space and his cast.  The set, designed by the talented Mary Rose O'Connor (TU's Mr. Marmalade) is arranged such that we can see all the way to the rear exit of the theatre, allowing our minds to see a long apartment hallway in addition to the main playing area/living space.  Belknap uses this to full advantage as characters chase each other down the hall, slamming doors as heated exchanges take their full course.  The actors also address each other in a natural way - often they face each other on a sofa, offering us a view of the back of one head and the face of another, or, like in life, the characters face each other or away from each other, without regard for the audience beyond the fourth wall.  This serves to make the dialogue and the circumstance to be realistic, not theatrical, and therefore stems any chance of didactic monologues or in your face theme spouting.  That is not to say that there aren't theatrical moments - this isn't a 20/20 expose.  The center of O'Connor's set, a series of staiNed Glass windows that create a hallway door frame, are thematic to be sure, and are lit beautifully by Alexandra Pappas so that their beauty reflects on the floor at the most choice moments.  Belknap heightens other symbols - red paint and blood, for example - as the sick become "healed" and find a joie de vivre in art.  In one scene, blood flows down her face and all over her hands and furniture.  In the next, she is painting, carefree about where the blood red paint splatters as it covers her hands, face and any available surface. 

Much credit for keeping this play from becoming a boring cliche, though, goes to the cast.  What an ensemble!  Rachel Liptz, a senior at Carver Center, plays the angst-ridden teen daughter Rachel with such a grounded reality it is refreshing.  She is not a teen playing a teen, she simply is.  Miss Liptz says more with a pursed lip/heavy sigh/eye roll combination than any 5 pages of dialogue could.  She is also excellent with subtext, careful to react to any and every thing going on around her.  It is there where she shows a vulnerability that is a subtle reminder that no matter how tough the teen veneer, there is still a human there that needs and craves a connection to others.  And despite some timing issues occasionally, she works very well with her more experienced cast mates, particularly in showing us the intense bond quickly developed with Martin, the gay neighbor.  And the uneasy balance between teen love and hate for parents that her character has with her mother and her unseen step-father, is carefully, painfully etched on her face and palpably real during some very tense exchanges. 

The chief conflict comes from Caroline, played with urban sophistication and deep anger and fear by Carolynne Wilcox.  Caroline has a brain tumor, which causes her to blackout and fall down.  Wilcox does this very well, never going melodramatic, but terrifyingly real.  The first time this happens, it is so real, I thought to get up and help her off stage.  The physical and emotional pain is clearly in the eyes and facial expressions of this subtle actress.  Her anger at everyone and everything is deep and heartfelt - the confrontations this causes are uncomfortable and difficult to watch, rewarding as they are.  Contrast this with the same actress in act two who is exuberant with the joy which comes from piece of mind and blind faith.  Her eyes are wild with a new found sight - I picture a blind person suddenly being able to see.  And the desperation with which she clings to this new found peace is both a delight to behold and devastating to watch as she spirals out of control

Chris Graybill, a multi-talented and underrated local treasure of an actor, breathes new life into the tired gay best friend formula.  His Martin is flamboyant for sure.  But one gets the sense that much of his theatrics exist because he gives his friends and acquaintances what they expect to see.  (Martin describes himself as "not bitter - tart!")  He is, naturally, quite good with the biting barb, and the pop-culture references (though I have to say I'm getting tired of Wizard of Oz references - there are other "gay" movies!).  Martin has a, well, interesting fetish - superhero worship.  And Graybill mines gold from this pleasant twist.  He is absolutely hilarious and endearing all at once.  And still, he manages to give Martin a strong, masculine backbone, particularly useful in anchoring scenes that could easily lapse into histrionics - his Martin is someone anyone would turn to in times of real crisis.  In one exchange, Martin (and playwright Zadravec) offers a poignant observation about post-9/11 New York, realizing that on the 11^th, he noticed the humanity in the pictures posted of those missing, while ruefully admitting that on the 10^th he probably would have passed some nasty observation off on them over some superficial trait.  Mr. Graybill has really taken the stock gay character to a nice, new level. 

Finally, the character of Beth, the one I was sure I'd have the most reaction to - and I did - was beautifully played by Joan Weber.  Weber brings a wealth of experience and a varied resume to the table and her experience really shows.  On the surface, Beth is all of the things I both despise and envy in this type of person, and Weber nails every little bit of each.  She walks the fine line between pious and realistically religious, often wearing that sanctimonious innocent look that so many of the "saved" adopt, eyes constantly on scan to pick up even the slightest misstep by others.  And she speaks of the Lord in that ingratiating and utterly grating I'm-so-much-better-than-you tone of voice.  She recites each line like everyone she talks to is a mentally handicapped child, until challenged, then she screams out scripture like it is a weapon, or swells with an infuriating righteous indignation as she cuts any and all sinners to the quick.  There are also the very realistic glimpses she lets us see, when, like many such "holier than thou" folks, she uses her religion to get her way or to humiliate others who are less holy than she.  You want to yell back at her, "What would Jesus do to you, you hypocrite!" Ultimately, we can see in Weber's interpretation that this new found faith, based on a perceived miracle, is more a life raft Beth clings to, to keep from sinking in her pretty unhappy life.  In short, Ms. Weber gives a finely layered, bold performance in a role that vacillates uneasily between lovable and exasperating. 

Save Me delights in offering many arguments on all the sides of a very thorny issue.  That many are left unanswered or resolved is perplexing and, in the end, satisfying.  Equally satisfying is when director and cast can elevate a script to levels far beyond its actual reach.  With Save Me, they have made this Heaven-bound.

 

PHOTOS: Carolynne Wilcox in Save Me.  Photos by Anne Detmeyer.

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