Love-Lies-Boring
In his latest play, Love-Lies-Bleeding, now being staged at the Kennedy Center, renowned author Don DeLillo seems to have capitalized on the societal rift that divided the country during the Terri Schiavo scandal: Is it ethical to end the life of an individual in a "persistant vegetative state"? And while DCist commends him for not merely exploring the two sides of the ethical debate and instead focusing on the interpersonal ramifications of one family's story, the problem is that while the stakes are high, this story isn't partictuarly riveting. In fact, it's kind of dull.
The problem seems to lie in the dialogue of DeLillo's tale, which chronicles what happens when a man's son and ex-wife approach his current wife to convince her to end the life of the man for whom she spends her days caring. We get a taste of who the man once was in a flashback, where he is played by another, younger actor (John Heard, known to the distinguished theatregoer as "the dad from 'Home Alone'"). To say DeLillo's words are more suited to the page than the stage is too great a generalization. But there's something stilted in the back-and-forth, rhythmic exchanges here, all seemingly soul-searching and reflective, but ultimately never revealing much of interest.
DeLillo has provided us with a group of characters, some opaque and some memorable, who are all ably embodied by an ensemble of gifted actors. The best of the bunch is Martha Lavey, who takes on the larger-than-life, wry and sexy Toinette, Alex's ex-wife. We don't know much about Toinette's backstory: we get little clues about her life with her husband and learn other minor details, such as the fact she never had much money, and may feel jilted by this. But it is in Lavey's commanding, throaty portrayal that we learn this is a woman to be reckoned with. Similarly, though we're never quite sure why Sean is so obsessed with his father's former life, Louis Cancelmi's performance captures his obsessiveness in a whiny, almost needy fashion, but adds another dimension - a dorky kind of intensity that demonstrates how he can compell individuals to see his point with a combination of (sometimes shaky) logic and sheer force of will. Heard's everyman portrayal of the younger Alex is fine, though the actor isn't given much to do here: we see Alex much more through the eyes of those around him than through the brief flashbacks. Penelope Walker is all devotion and compassion as the current wife, Lia, but her character is a thin one.
The staging for the show is spare - scene changes are invoked by a repeated eerie sound effect, and actors sit offstage, still visible to us, when they are not the focus of the proceeding. There are a few surprises: a stark, illuminated shot of the elder Alex hits us in the gut just as the show closes, allowing us to leave the theatre with an affecting visual reminder of the man's state, one that perhaps accomplishes more in one second than an hour and a half of dialogue manages to do.
Love-Lies-Bleeding runs through June 25 at the Kennedy Center's Terrace Theatre. Tickets are available on the theatre's Web site.