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| Anya Caravella, Chris Luongo, Kevin Sosbe, Reesa Roccapriore and Jim Dietter. Photo by Richard Pettibone. |
Anyone who has ever agonized over
writing a school essay knows that writing doesn’t come easy, but in Theresa
Rebeck’s Seminar, which recently
opened at TheatreWorks New Milford under the direction of Alicia Dempster,
those who hope to one day pen the Great American Novel face emotional and
psychological hurdles and pitfalls that would make the Special Forces’ obstacle
training course look like child’s play. This somewhat verbose comedy about wanna-be
writers will be an eye-opener for those who believe writing is a safe,
sedentary, contemplative way to earn a living and hopefully achieve fame and
fortune. It’s a jungle out there, and Rebeck has gathered several of its
creatures together to snarl, growl, claw and mate with each other for 90 or so
minutes. The result is slightly comedic, somewhat formulaic and, well,
over-written.
Set in a posh Upper West Side
Manhattan apartment designed by Scott Wyshynski, the play opens with four
erstwhile writers gathered together for a seminar to be run by a literary
almost-luminary. There is Douglas (Jim Dietter), a bit effete and very taken
with his polysyllabic vocabulary. The New
Yorker is interested in one of his stories and his father was a semi-famous
playwright, so he is possibly a comer. However, Martin (Chris Luongo) is less
than impressed with Doug’s name-dropping and argues for the purity of the
writing pursuit (after all, it’s inspired by our higher angels, isn’t it?).
Purity doesn’t impress Izzy (Reesa
Roccapriore), who is not averse to sleeping her way to publication and a
possible spot on the New York Times’
bestseller list, while Kate (Anya Caravella), whose family leases the
rent-controlled apartment, has been working on the same story for six years
because since her stint at Bennington
she has been told it shows promise.
Anyone who has spent any time with
neophyte writers, many of whom can be found in the numerous collegiate MFA
courses, will recognize these characters for, indeed, they are stereotypes: the
wordy nerd enraptured by theory, the suffering artiste who does not think the
world is ready for his prose, the semi-slut femme fatale, and the earnest, good
little rich girl.
Enter Leonard (Kevin Sosbe), a once
famous author now turned editor who will run the 10-week seminar. If the four
tyro writers are Bambis in the woods, Leonard is a scarred rhinoceros complete
with a horn that can gouge and eviscerate. A weary-world traveler who has seen
suffering humanity at its worst, he is the play’s bargain-basement Hemingway,
wearing his machismo on his sleeve and disdainful of those who have gathered to
hear his words of wisdom.
Oddly enough, in a play about five
writers, we never actually get to hear what any of them have written, save for
the first five words of Kate’s story. Thus, quite a few minutes are spent
throughout the play watching Leonard or one of the other characters reading and
dropping manuscript pages on the floor. Not exactly compelling drama. It’s also
a bit odd that in a play about a writing seminar so little is actually said
about the writing process. There’s a lot of pontificating, pseudo-philosophizing
and put-downs, but the five characters seem more interested in investigating and
eviscerating egos and pointing out foibles and failures than in how words
actually get formed into stories.
Leonard turns his scorn and less
than acerbic wit on each writer in set-pieces that, at first, seem interesting
but really go nowhere, so much so that a certain feeling of déjà vu sets in: Leonard speaks about
his latest exploits in far off lands, reads several pages, then offers comments
that are meant to cut to the writer’s quick. Actually, they just seem nasty.
As the evening nears its close, we
are treated to an extended monologue by Leonard while the rest of the
characters attempt to look as if they are interested. His woeful tale of a
writer’s life seems to go on forever and though it is meant to be heartfelt,
since we really don’t care about this character (we’ve been given no reason
to), it engenders nothing more than a “So what?”
This is followed by an extended
final scene set in Leonard’s book-lined apartment that is meant to resolve,
well, whatever needs to be resolved. Is it unsatisfactory? Let me count the
ways. Easy – it’s the sum of the number of times I thought: “No, I don’t buy
that.”
As written, this is a tough play to
stage, if only because in the multiple scenes of the actual seminar most of the
actors really have nothing to do but react. Dempster has blocked the scenes
using the full stage, but often we have characters locked in place or, worse
still, making crosses that have no real motivation other than it’s time to move
from here to there.
One of the few valid points brought
up about fiction writing during the evening is that characters must have
interior lives, so it is ironic that the characters Rebeck has created seem to
merely exist on the surface. Thus, it’s difficult to generate any concern for
what might happen to them, mainly because the stakes, such as they are, seem to
be trivial, and the revelation that the publishing world is just a business
like any other business is less than shattering. Yes, you can make it to the
top through contacts or by sleeping with ‘the boss’ or by knifing the
competition in the back. It’s just another jungle.
Seminar
runs through March 12. For tickets or more information call 860-350-6863 or
going online to theatreworks.us.
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