Cecilia Antoinette went down as smooth as silk portraying the more seasoned of the two. "We got to be iron-plated inside," she says, reacting with dignity to the glares of the crowd.
But the play's scraping away of the ethnicity of Linda Powell's light-skinned character tended to make the drama less redolent of the universality a great play must radiate.
The sounds (designed by Jeffrey M. Taylor) of an angry restaurant brought 1950's racism to life. And the costumes by Lourdes Garcia included perfect hats for "colored ladies of quality" to wear to lunch.
"Freud's House," basically a boy-meets-girl story with some poignant twists, ended more spiritually satisfying than one expected.
When a Jewish woman (Ann Talman) comes to pray in a synagogue, she recognizes an old flame (Scott Sherman) now married to a new-age zealot.
Over a period demarcated by Jewish holidays, these two conduct an affair that eventually bears fruit, but that strains credibility. (Their deportment would be more suitable in a stadium than a synagogue.)
No matter. The play disarmed disbelief and offered some pricelessly funny moments. (You didn't have to be Jewish to laugh when the characters rattled Purim graggers - meant to ward off the Jews' arch-enemy Haman - at the mention of Jesus Christ in a synagogue.)
The blackouts were perfectly timed in Greg MacPherson's lighting design; and the set by Mark Symczak admirably evoked the benches and wainscoted walls of a synagogue.
In "No One Will Be Immune," the ensemble produced a riveting half hour that reeked of artistic excellence. But what was it about?
A man (David Rasche) who may be telepathic, psychotic, a liar, or a victim, tells his story to another man (Robert Joy) who may be a government investigator or possibly a newspaperman. No one is well defined here, except by the language, which, being Mamet's, is completely fluid. (Unblemished by profanity, it could have used more humor.)
Ultimately this mystery play produced a shaggy dog. Since the Simpson trial was on everybody's mind, when it became obvious that the artists were withholding information, it seemed fair game to speculate that Mamet & Co. were only permitting the audience to overhear a lawyer play devil's advocate with a court-appointed client. If that interpretation solved the case, the play became completely clear. But the magic drifted up in smoke.
Copyright 1999 Marshall Yaeger