Theater Review: True West

by Gina Robertson of John Garcia's The Column

I was pretty sure I was not in for a performance that would make me glad I came. I was wrong.

The play is performed at Greenspace Arts in Denton, a small cinderblock room where the house is a few rows of folding chairs immediately before the stage set, a modest kitchen with a table, chairs, a small desk, and a typewriter. My program was missing a page. The usher was unable to tell me where there were restroom facilities for patrons. "Maybe around back. There's a door, but it might be locked."

As I shifted my butt around on the hard metal chair, I was pretty sure I was not in for a performance that would make me glad I came.

I was wrong.

The story is of sibling rivalry—two brothers completely opposite in temperament and lifestyle who haven't seen each other in years but now find themselves staying alone together at Mom's house while she's away on vacation. Austin is an ivy league educated screenwriter working on a love story he's been pitching to a Hollywood producer and is on the verge of making the sale. Lee is a dim-witted alcoholic drifter who makes his living with petty crime and his gift for "convincing" people. The brothers fall easily back into old routines, with Lee annoying or assaulting his little brother and Austin never sure whether to be amused, angry, or generous to his brother to best hide the fact that he's terrified of him. Well he should be. Alex Worthington portrays Lee as quick and dangerous, ever ready to erupt into violence at the slightest provocation.

Cody Lucas as Austin, in the first act, is timid, nervous, and thoroughly overwhelmed by Lee's overbearing nature and explosive hostility. He often stands awkwardly while delivering his lines before crossing the room as if on cue to deliver another. The impression is one of an inexperienced actor not entirely comfortable on the stage or one who's not in sync with the director, but we find in the second act that neither is the case. Instead it would seem that Lucas's awkward stance and his purposeful stage movement are meant to be elements of character. Austin himself is a bad actor trying to portray something to his brother but unsure how to do it so he doesn't know how to stand or where to position himself in the room.

Sean Ball does pretty well with the role of the slick movie producer Saul Kimmer, but he and Lucas are both swallowed up by Worthington as Lee in the first act. They are helpless to do anything but react to him. Worthington owns the first act completely, filling the entire room with himself, a perfect embodiment of his character.

There are a couple of long scenes that take place in candle light, and the set is too dark for too long. Austin and Lee are just a couple of shadowy voices hovering around the kitchen table. This is a nice effect for a few moments—very true to life, especially with the crickets and the coyotes as background sounds—but it's a shame to waste the terrific chemistry between these two actors by hiding their faces throughout this important dialogue.

What happens in the second act may not come as a shock to those familiar with this classic story, but for me it was totally unexpected. In such a small, intimate space, with the actors performing almost literally right on the laps of the audience front row, the effect was remarkable. I didn't realize until later, in the car as we pulled out of the parking lot, there was no applause when the show ended. At lights up, we all just sort of sat there in stunned silence for a few moments, then began to stand and make our way through the wreckage and debris toward the exit.

Karen MacIntyre as the boys' mother is delightfully deadpan. She's clearly got a screw loose and is more than a bit spacey, but there's a strange digression into Picasso that makes her seem completely insane, which doesn't really work as well as if she's just comically disconnected from what's going on around her. If she's crazy, it seems that point would have come up during the brothers' many conversations about their parents during previous dialogue.

By the end of the show, I had long since forgotten the uncomfortable chair, the messed-up program, and the clueless usher, having spent some moments in real concern for my personal safety. I don't know if I walked away unharmed because the performers are highly trained stunt men performing carefully controlled actions that only appear to be chaotic or if I just got lucky, but it doesn't matter. Either way, I walked away stunned by what took place just inches from where I sat and filled with thoughtful reflections on the nature of violence and the dynamics of family relationships.

My nine-year-old son attended the show with me, and I personally would take him to see it again, but other parents might object to exposing their children to the language and violence of this show.

True West, presented by Sundown Collaborative Theatre, runs through April 18. Tickets are available at the door.