Review - The Jamb (and other thoughts)

I don't know why I do this to myself, but I frequently see plays in their last weekend, then I enjoy them, then I kick myself for not leaving myself enough time to spread the word!  I did it again with J. Stephen Brantley's The Jamb, but I'm happy to report they've just announced a two-performance extension, so everyone reading should go go go!

I know J. Stephen's work as an actor, but I hadn't seen any of his plays yet, so even though I'm on that dumb tight budget, I just had to make the time to see this one.  It seems like forever since I've seen a play (actually, only a few weeks, but it seems longer), and it was nice to start back up with a small-sized, big-hearted play downtown.

The Jamb is about two longtime friends, Roderick and Tuffer, on the cusp of (or having just) turning 40, and their lives have taken strikingly different turns.  Roderick is now sober and carries around righteous anger like a backpack, whereas Tuffer is still drinking, taking drugs and avoiding anything vaguely 'mature' in his life - he takes his immaturity to the nth degree by also having a REALLY young boyfriend, when he can remember him through the fog of drugs.  Taking place in 2008, the play is about a time and place when gay men were on the cusp of something in society, they just weren't sure what.

Through confrontational scenes, asides to the audience, fourth-wall-breaking stage directions and great sound effects, The Jamb starts off on a breakneck pace, with Roderick wallowing in his anger that his friend won't clean up, and Tuffer wallowing in his crack pipe.  The young boyfriend, Brandon, is continually the voice of reason in the fast and funny first act.  At the end of the act, Roderick has finally convinced Tuffer to come out to New Mexico with him to spend time with Roderick's mother and to hopefully dry out.  The second act takes place in New Mexico, and the play slows down for more emotion, pain and reflection.

photo credit: Hunter Canning

I enjoyed The Jamb a lot - I thought the acting was first-rate, the script was funny, sad and very true (some of the dialogue just smacked me upside the head, in a good way), and the direction took me places I didn't expect. And I could really relate to characters wanting to 'fix' another person, or feeling an unrequited love that erupts in frustrated anger at times.  J. Stephen is a powerful physical presence, with a razor-sharp tongue, but I also saw the pain and vulnerability underneath. This character, a now-sober-vaguely-holier-than-thou gay man, could quickly have become a tiresome cliche, but Brantley mines so many layers, it's wonderful to watch them unfold.  Nico Grelli was manic, charming and terrified, all at the same time.  Again, a wonderful, specific performance that found an originality in what could've been a stock character.  I could say that about Todd Flaherty as Brandon, too.  The young one who is the wisest one in the room - he found fresh and funny stuff in there.  Brava also to Carole Monferdini as Roderick's New Age mom, who has found herself in New Mexico and she is the one person able to see people for who they are, and she is the one who says things the way they are. Terrific.

I have to say I didn't enjoy my seat at the Kraine Theatre all that much; of course, it's my fault for picking it and staying in it, I guess. The springs were pretty much gone, so it wasn't as comfy as one would hope.  As i was getting ready to move over to the seat next to me, a guy ran down the stairs, already rather drunk but holding two drinks in his hands, asking if he could sit next to me and do i come here often?  Wow.  That was unexpected.  I just smiled vaguely and got a book out of my bag.  Before the show started, he got back up for two more drinks.  He got two more at intermission.  His hand moved further down my arm every time he got up and came back. Before the end of the show, he staggered out of the row, I briefly worried he would either throw up on me or try to claw his way back down (we were in the third row), but once he left, he was gone.  I thought to myself, 'not only does it not smell like booze anymore but something else is different - oh yeah, the seats aren't jiggling because he's not bouncing his leg anymore. yay.' Thankfully, as annoying as that guy was, he didn't distract me from my enjoyment of the play.

After the show, I spotted a friend in the front row and I wanted to go give him a hug - as I was gathering my things, my phone started going crazy.  I was getting texts and alerts from a lot of different people, telling me that Edward Albee had died.  If you've read my blog before, I think you know that Albee is one of my writing heroes and I loved seeing his plays. I was rather stunned, in shock, so I stumbled out of the theater, found a stoop to sit on, and sent a text to a handsome chum, who would know what was going on.  He confirmed the sad news.  To say I was devastated doesn't completely describe my feelings. I spent the subway ride home, the rest of the evening and all day yesterday reading articles, texting friends and feeling sad.  I still feel sad, though I guess it makes sense that the last play I saw in a world with Albee still in it was a theatrical telling of the lives of gay men.  Maybe there's some symmetry in that.  But, boy, do I feel a hole in the theater universe that probably won't ever be filled.  Ever.

I think I'll rerun some of my favorite Albee reviews for you this week - I saw a few shows before I started my blog, so some of them will be new to you and some of them won't. But since I don't have the fierce command of language that he did, reliving his plays will say far more than my trying to write about him as a person.