Tell That Glowing Box to Shove It: Austinist Reviews dirigo group

We were immediately struck by the sound, lighting and set design. These elements combined to create a fantastically off-putting, unnerving undertone that kept us cringing (in a good way). Whether it was the crickets quietly chirping in the speakers, or the expressionist visual collages that flickered on and off of the set’s many television screens, director/designer Lowell Batholomee created a very specific world that was a perfect match for the tone of the writing.

Within this environment, the actors emerged from darkness, and a disheveled, distant mother (a standout performance from Ellie McBride) – lit only by the dim white light of the TVs that surrounded her – catalogued the horrific existence of her “Cyber-Punk-Separatist-Wannabe” son. The achingly languid pace of McBride’s delivery was a daring choice – subtly drawing us in, like sick little voyeurs, begging for more.

But then there wasn’t…really…more.

On the one hand, Murillo’s play gains greater complexity as additional subplots are introduced. The stories of a TV personality, an upbeat mom, and an emotionally adrift divorcee weave in and out of one another – all somehow infected by a media culture of violence. As these characters spiral downward into their life’s defining moments, the audience should have been drawn in – captivated by the juxtaposition of “The Media”, well-captured in all its slimy detail, with well-observed, well-written empathetic characters that had somehow gotten a little lost. (Let’s pause real quick, just so you can notice the fantastic use of the word “juxtaposition” in the last sentence. Go us!)

But on the other hand, the production didn’t spiral out of control with the play. It became trapped in its understated beginnings, failing to dig in and create the visceral audience experience that the text demanded. As presented by dirigo, the play had no journey, little growth, and lacked catharsis. We’re not asking for a happy ending (or an ending at all, really), but if we go see a production and we’re in the same emotional place when we leave that we were in when we got there, then something didn’t quite add up.

Could it have been the actors? Not Wayne Allen Brenner – he gave a fantastic performance as the scarred local TV personality – quietly creating a character with more implied depth than we’ve seen in some time. Not Heather Hanna – she was clear, funny and engaging as the suburbo-mom with something to prove. Maybe it was Dan Dietz. While he gave a strong performance, and was believable enough for us to empathize with his character, he didn’t seem to connect with the extreme highs and lows. That was slightly troubling, as his story was the emotional backbone of the play. But let’s not get carried away. It’s really not like Dan was bad, per se. And besides, a performance that’s a little flat surely isn’t the downfall of an entire production. So what gives?

We think it’s a combination of little things. As much as we liked the play, we’re not sure that the central narrative (the story of Dan Dietz’s character) was as structurally sound as the rest of the piece – the writing in this section didn’t contain the same potential for drama, and thus couldn’t carry the production to any kind of climax. And just as Dan’s performance didn’t take the writing any further, neither did the production. While Bartholomee created an intoxicating world for the story to inhabit, he didn’t create enough shape in the telling of the story itself. Without that shape, the production wandered. So, even though this show has some fantastic components that are worth seeing, it won’t deliver that intense experience the play leaves you hoping for.

Photo courtesy of gokoroko at Stock Exchange.