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| Nearly alone in this show, Reg Cathay doesn't phone his performance in |
Heresy
The Flea Theater
written by A.R. Gurney
directed by Jim Simpson
It's a measure of
sci-fi's ubiquity in American theater that even A.R. Gurney, an
82-year-old WASP, sets his latest drama in a dystopia. It's “New America” in the not-too-distant future, just long enough for five
nation-wide “crackdowns” on un-American activity. The image that
conjures—of NYPD bashing Occupy—is the only contemporary aspect
of Gurney's setting. His targets are Bush-era: waterboarding,
wiretaps, and massive databases on American citizenry get cited but
not, say, drone assassination. Not a word about the Great Recession
but plenty about a newfound unity of church and state. The
near-absence of post-'08 malfeasance makes the play seem behind the
times, already dated. The near-future resembles the near-past, but
with a paranoid streak stemming from constant police surveillance.
The lone bit of future-tech is a whooshing door out of BBC's MI-5.
If Heresy were
stronger elsewhere, in script or show, Gurney's failure of
imagination wouldn't matter so much. But the play is clumsy, its
staging uninspired. Its basic conceit is awful: Mary (Annette
O'Toole, wooden) visits DC to speak with Pilate about the arrest of
her son, Chris. In case his audience misses
his point, Gurney hamhandedly emphasizes the parallel: young officer
Mark, transcribing the meeting, likes to re-translate prosaic
dialogue back into its biblical phraseology. Jim Simpson ignores the
script's blunt-edged satire, instead staging the play with a breezy
tone. The flickers of enjoyment come from the always-awesome Reg E.
Cathay, a Pilate whose bass voice belies a shallow desire for
respect, and by Kathy Najimy as his tipsy wife, a society matron who
says the dopiest things. The duo's rapport gives this doddering
one-act its only moments of vitality.
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