THE NIGHT OF THE IGUANA
This superb staging, directed by Robert Falls–one of the five or six most satisfying evenings I’ve spent in any theater–is an example of what can happen when artistic vision and technical prowess work in tandem. The brilliant design by Loy Arcenas (set), James F. Ingalls (lights), and Richard Woodbury (sound) creates a completely realistic environment–a run-down Costa Verde hotel nestled in a Mexican jungle complete with hovering mist and a sudden steamy thundershower. It isn’t intended to stun the audience with spectacle but to ground the ensemble in a believable physical world that’s the starting point for their characters’ spiritual journeys. Grand theatrical gestures support the play’s emotional intimacy instead of overwhelming it. Sequences like the rainstorm or the erotically charged opening tableau (of a nearly naked youth washing under an outdoor shower) pave the way for the third-act payoff: a spellbinding, softly spoken conversation between the two central characters, Hannah Jelkes and the Reverend T. Lawrence Shannon, that leads to each one’s acceptance of a fragile, lonely life that’s better than the ever-lurking alternatives: death or emotional crack-up.
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Cynthia Baker, in fine lusty form (and with a perfect barking laugh) as Maxine, heads a supporting cast that includes Lawrence McCauley, who grows into a moving Nonno after a slightly too comedic entrance; Paula Korologos as Charlotte; and Matt DeCaro and Dev Kennedy as the tough guys who take over Shannon’s tour.
