DAVID’S REDHAIRED DEATH
Bailiwick Repertory
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We don’t discover this right away, however. Kramer’s play is like a puzzle: after slowly and painstakingly connecting a series of dots, one uncovers an integrated image out of what appeared to be chaos. Memory need not proceed linearly or at a uniform rate, and so we watch as Jean desperately lingers in memory over the pleasant details of her introduction to Marilyn, who embodies everything that she longs to be. (One could even make the case that Marilyn is the woman Jean might have become had her spiritual growth not been stunted by the traumatic loss of her brother.) Every similarity between Jean and Marilyn–their childhood hurts, their cigarette brands, their red hair (though Jean’s is dyed)–reinforces the magic of their mutually narcissistic courtship. Their vow to color their hair the same unnatural shade takes on the gravity of a blood oath, they utter advertising slogans as flirtatious repartee, and Jean’s drive to Marilyn’s house becomes a stygian journey in search of a blissful haven. But throughout Jean’s dogged evasion of the instant when her greatest sorrow and her greatest joy clashed, we hear the voice of Marilyn reminding her that only when she completes her chronicle and puts the past behind her can they be reunited.
CRAZY LITTLE THING
Circle Theatre
