As Wilson's would-be landlady, Joyce, Susana Mensah discovered precious moments to portray the shrewish woman married to Mike, who was played well by Irin Evans as a drab and nondescript, run-of-the-mill hired killer.
Wilson's ambition was to have become the brother of a millionaire. He failed at it, as with everything in his life. When we learn it was Mike's fault, we see, in Wilson's character, and what he does about it, the outlines of a broken heart, and we're moved.
No more appropriate setting than an East Village basement painted black, with a ladder and wall ledges to define space and furniture, could have been chosen for this dour comedy.
The lighting by Laura Sheets was too ambitious for the budget and space. Her hot spots and shadowed actors vied for attention. But the costumes and props were right, except for one obviously empty traveling valise. Joyce is dressed like a garish impression of a Daumier etching, and Mike's shoes dazzled like the spangles on the mobile goldfish that drifted and reflected in the audience's eyes. Another fault of the lighting, perhaps; but goldfish are more than "just a kind of carp" in this particular adapted radio play.
Part of the sublime beauty of Orton's work comes from the intimately physical and character-revealing, restrained precision of his language; as when two characters are confronted with cold weather, one says: "Get my overcoat, we'll need extra on the bed"; or another, afraid to sit outside, says, "I'll get piles from the lower temperature." You don't get much raunchier, Englishier, or better than that.
Both Orton plays exploited homoerotic elements to create atmosphere. Not out of place, perhaps, given the author's biography; but more like a red herring. One suspects Orton was onto bigger fish, more universal than scratching that particular itch.
The direction offered some brilliant moments, as when Mike picks Joyce up from behind and she struggles like a pinioned kitten, all legs; or, when sitting down, she's suddenly thrust into the room, seemingly from nowhere. It's a stunning, irrational moment that could never happen except on a theatrical stage. But Orton's plays are filled with spangled moments, some shining in our eyes, others caught in darkness, shifting, changing, relating, making memorable impressions.
Copyright 1999 Marshall Yaeger