Their servants say things like, "Would you like some more blood, sir?"
Howard Hughes, an owner of aircraft factories, was a hard man to pull down. Using technology (amplified rooms and remote control video) he almost cheated death.
This wonderfully entertaining, humorous revival captured poetically how frustrating it must have been for the living to survive the end of a man, richer than any other, whose life force ruled both heavens and earth.
Paul D'Amato as Henry Malcolm Hackemore looked much like the man who scratched long, grotesque fingernails at the world. In a virtuoso performance filled with tics and bird-like movements, what a pleasure it must have been to perform a role so well suited to the actor's physiognomy and talent.
Maryann Towne, playing a siren fatale, vamped lubriciously into Henry's tropical compound (whereupon Henry gives her the plane she came in on).
The actress wore an expensive sequined gown, unfortunately made for someone with a slightly different figure.
On the other hand, Alicia Harding as a bimbo from whom all thought was plucked like chicken feathers fit everything just fine, taking most of it off in a slow strip tease which the actress choreographed. During such moments sex and "bowls of roses" melded and the play became pure enjoyment.
Nick Sandow was fine as Henry's beaten-down manservant, who triumphantly offers to let him fly and touch the top of the world again. A greater use of Hughes-type futuristic stagecraft (a suggestion of holograms, for example), consistent with the author's nightmarish vision of modern technology, might have saved the play's ending from a last-minute nose dive of recovered disbelief.
Nevertheless, Shepard's poetically lovely language gave so much pleasure that at times you couldn't wait for the next line. The director scored and paced things well, creating some extraordinary visions, such as the moribund Henry in goggles and hat. Donalee Katz's clever lighting animated plants and chiseled Henry's monumental features.
Excellently reproduced tangos and jungle sounds created atmosphere. But the white spare set by Jon Maas and Tara Solomon was mainly decorated by the actors, clothed by Beth Suhocki, who let us discover little treasures - such as a red kerchief in Ms. Harding's bosom.
How could a man who stopped cutting his nails and hair seduce people? In this production, it was D'Amato's charm that made a loathsome character almost attractive. At first one wondered how anyone could outdo the volcanic Rip Torn who created the role 27 years ago. By the end, one wondered if Rip Torn was that good.
Copyright 1999 Marshall Yaeger