Please enter a search term to begin your search.
Ages of the Moon, Sam Shepard’s newest play currently at the Atlantic Theater, is about male friendship, bonds and memories, the remaining glimpses of power and desire of two men at the dusk of their lives. Set in the front porch of a remote fishing house somewhere in the American South, on the day of a total eclipse of the moon, the two friends of over fifty years meet, talk about their past, about women, wives and male rivals, they fight, reconcile and fight again, hiding their vulnerabilities behind whiskey and futile demonstrations of masculinity and power.
Ames, played by Stephen Rea, was forced to leave his house after his wife discovered traces of an insignificant past affair. Desperate and lonely in his isolated fishing house, he’s called his old friend Byron (Sean McGinley) who arrives to offer support. The play is masterful in allowing the characters to emerge gradually and effortlessly through what seems to be insignificant small talk: the upcoming eclipse on the moon; girls on bikes; memories of their wives and of past rivals; the “finicky” fan on the ceiling that seems to function at will. As these topics come up, randomly, between long pauses and sips of whiskey, often leading to witty one liners, it is not only the two men’s contrasting characters that are revealed – Ames’ grumpy and fierce temperament, always ready to start a fight, yet in desperate need of companionship, against Byron’s quiet condescending personality, carefully avoiding to reveal his own feelings in order to be supportive to his friend. More than that, subtly and without manipulating or emphasizing it, the play allows for a third space to emerge: the very space between the two men, their friendship and its nature, at once suffocating and comforting. The detailed crafting of characters and dialogue makes these two men complementary, as Byron often completes Ames’ thoughts or blends, almost as a ghost, into his friend’s memories of the past. Ames’ fierce spirit, trying to assert self-sufficiency, revolts (“you think you know me that well?”) and in his fists of rage tries to drive his friend away physically as well as from his reminisces, only to ask him to return again. When at the second, darker part of the play, Byron for the first time, alone on stage, opens his heart and reveals his loneliness after his wife’s death and crushes under what seems like a heart attack (which fortunately is not), it will be Ames’ turn to be quiet and listen and take care of him. As fifty years of friendship have been tested through bitterness, anger, humor and lots of whiskey, the play closes with the two friends, seated on the porch next two each other watching the moon and slowly disappearing in the darkness of the eclipse.
I am a devoted fan of Stephen Rea from his film work - this was the first time I was seeing him on stage and he was equally astonishing. He had such a fine balance between wittiness and vulnerability, such imperceptible transitions between anger and loneliness, feistiness and defeat, mischievousness and introversion. He was a charming boyish old man, in such extraordinary command of all his expressive means that at times I thought that he was acting even with his wrinkles. McGinley was a good pair (in fact the play has been written for these two actors) and was captivating particularly in the later part of the play.
The only aspect that I had some trouble with was the direction (by Jimmy Fay) mainly in the earlier part of the play. Although the performance achieved to maintain the play’s fine balance between lightness and emotion and brought out its profound good-heartedness, it seemed to me that, in its earlier part, it did not adequately create and establish that atmosphere of intimacy and ease between the two men who can comfortably sit in silence for hours or can be so in-tune as to complement each others’ thoughts. Thus for example the leit-motif of the two men drinking simultaneously while looking away comes across as a gimmick rather than a sign of deep-seated familiarity between the two. Similarly the fast-paced one liners, occasionally emphasized to elicit laughter (a trap that Rea was more successful in avoiding) in combination with a rather static staging in the beginning, at times created a sitcom aesthetic. However the play is still in previews and probably these things will smoothen and relationships will gel during the run. Despite such slight weaknesses Ages of the Moon is a very strong play with an extraordinary cast making the performance a treat for New York audiences.
Ages of the Moon runs at The Atlantic until March 7. Don’t miss the opportunity to get a special discount offer for January performances through Destination Chelsea’s Culture Choice!
Posts: 1
Reply #1 on : Mon February 01, 2010, 10:11:21