Pocatello

There's a new play on at Playwrights Horizons and it has a little bit of sexy-star-sizzle.  The always adorable and boyishly handsome T.R. Knight  (Eddie) takes the helm of Samuel D. Hunter's Pocatello along with the always divine Brenda Whele (Doris).

Unfortunately, this is not one of Mr. Hunter's best thought out plays. Yes, the idea is laudable - a man is lost in his very own hometown and searching for himself, his place, and his sense of family in an ever evolving landscape of unemployment, strip malls, fast food, and ATMs.  I get it.  I actually like the idea.  Mr. Hunter has appropriately captured the anger, character, and lost dreams of middle America in his dialogue.  For this I applaud him.

However, Mr. Hunter seems to have peppered the cast with characters that are all too interesting to not have developed.   Cameron Scoggins (Max) and Elvy Yost (Isabelle) both brilliantly acted, but their characters failed to advance the story.  Jonathan Hogan (Cole) is an older actor who just hit it out of the park with his onset of Alzheimer's affliction, but was this just for sympathy?  Leah Karpel nailed her performance of the angry young vegetarian-i hate my parents-nobody gets me routine, but do we really need one of these in every play?  Danny Wolohan (Troy) and his unhappy wife, Jennifer Dickey (Tammy) had the requisite bad marriage involving alcoholism, depression and the aforementioned angry daughter.  Cliche?  And what specifically was so emotionally visceral about that cheese-wiz casserole that Brett Hutchison (Nick) almost threw up on stage?  It just seemed to me that Mr. Hunter poured all the Lifetime movie characteristics into this play about middle America - the flyover states- middle of nowhere America.  All these characters distracted from the main character and his sense of loneliness and isolation from family.

The deepest sadness of the plot was therefore under-represented - -why exactly was Eddie so hell bent on keeping these mis-fit toys together?  We are not sufficiently introduced to his motivations, only his vague actions.  This becomes frustrating as you are constantly trying to figure out "why".  It is only at the very end that you learn a very tragic and sad fact about his mother, her motivations, and feelings about her gay son (yes, he threw this in for effect too).

You end up leaving the theatre with a deep sadness about family failings.  Perhaps Mr. Hunter succeeded in making us sad, but how or why we got there is at times a mystery - much like the pasta of the week on the menu.

Wit

A play about cancer and dying is probably not something that is first on your uplifting winter "must see" list.  But don't click the back button on your browser just yet.  Attention must be paid.  This play is a modern watershed of issue and emotion.  Cynthia Nixon may be compared to the prior leading ladies in this work, but without ever having seen those other leading ladies (whom I also adore),  I give Ms. Nixon a standing ovation right here - not only for her acting, her emotion, and ownership of the role, but for her giving life to the words on the page and to all those who are touched by cancer.

I'd like to highlight something that I have not seen in many of the other reviews - which tend to focus on Ms. Nixon's performance and the intelligent play on literature, poetry, grammar, God, and yes, wit.   What I found so biting was Ms. Edson's condemnation of doctors and, frankly, the entire health care system in general, while at the same time, the defense and promotion of the care giving of nurses.  Time and time again, to quite a successful humorous result each time, we hear uncaring, unobservant, superficial doctors go about their business of talking above a patient's head, asking "How do you feel today" to a patient suffering the pains of chemotherapy.   I found, quite often, Ms. Edson's dual emotions toward the situation - the superior intelligence and necessity of academics and researchers in the medical field and at the same time her bitter disdain for the lack of warmth, observation, and comfort by those same people.

The bitter pill she is forced to swallow is that she herself is forced to transition from (literary) expert to subject, teacher to student, artist to model.  She intelligently and rationally comes to the conclusion about what her life was and what it was not.  How she lived it and just how it may end.

There are many layers to this play and Ms. Nixon and director Lynne Meadow have chosen some of its finest most relevant to showcase in 2012.  Bravo Ms. Nixon, Ms. Meadow and to the entire cast for a top notch performance of a touching work!