IN SO MANY WORDS, PART ONE: THE MOST OF SHAVE
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Wilhelm Hahn’s efficient set consists of a single seven-foot plant, which somehow looks stupid, a beige couch, and a fake flagstone bar. Both couch and bar are on casters and can be swung in and out of view by the actors. One entire wall is made of piled-up cardboard boxes painted white, which look jaggedly sculptural in a cubist style. The floor is also painted, in an interesting geometrically patterned circle.
One hears Abish’s experimental dialogue throughout the piece, whether in word clusters on tape or spoken by the actors onstage. They interact with one another in a strange, almost unhuman way. People touch but don’t make contact and address one another without warmth, as though reciting memorized texts. They don’t seem to be thinking and feeling–they seem possessed by some force that has put them in a trance.
It does successfully illustrate, in a very abstract way, a time and place and feeling: New York in the mid 1970s, according to a press release. It’s been said that the 60s were one big party, and that the 70s were like that uncertain time after the party when just a few people sit on a couch and watch the late movie, wondering whether to stay and order pizza or go. The Doorika actors are more than competent–they all seem to possess great focus and individual power. But the piece, like the party that’s been too long over, never goes anywhere–and therein lies the premise of the entire production.
