Barrington Stage, Pittsfield, MA
www.barringtonstageco.org
through September 29, 2013
by Shera Cohen
Being a Mark St. Germain “groupie” is not as juvenile as it
might sound. After all, this man is not a one-song rock singer or actor of
ephemeral fame, but an accomplished playwright whose dialogue is snappy
repartee covered with wisdom, intellect, humor, bravado, and warmth. Previous
works included “Freud’s Last Session,” “Best of Enemies,” and “Dr. Ruth.” At
the most, his pieces number three characters which permit the audience the
opportunity to delve into the personalities, as is the case with St. Germain’s
latest play, “Scott and Hem in the Garden of Allah.”
Literally hot off the computer is the rolling world premiere
(translation: opens in several cities simultaneously) of a portrait of two of
the most well-known authors in the English language – F. Scott Fitzgerald and
Ernest Hemmingway. St. Germain has studied his subjects extremely well,
composing textbook research into conversation, utilizing the writers’ rule,
“Show, don’t tell.”
The staging – one of the most elaborate yet at Barrington –
is a Hollywood hotel one day in 1937. To call the writers “friends” might be a
stretch; perhaps their relationship was that of rivals and/or student and
teacher (Scott at the nadir of his career and Hem at the zenith). What make
them compatriots are their writing, alcoholism, insecurities, and microscopic
knowledge of each other. They speak of death, depression, and sexuality; each
cushioned with much humor – not jokes but humor as they look at and question
each other and themselves.
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| by Kevin Spraugue |
Joey Collins as Scott and Ted Koch as Hem personify the
visual and aural images most have of these two men. Collins’ Scott is prim,
proper, and as gentle as his alcoholic demeanor permits. Koch’s Hem is
boisterous and hard-edged. The actors seemingly know each other as well as the
writers did. Although in a smaller role, Angela Pierce, as a top level
secretary holds her own piece of the stage formidably. The authors’ chummy
banter drifts into provocative exploratory psychological sessions. The
actors/characters have captured their audience.
Kudos to Ryan Winkles’ choreography of the knock-down,
drag-out, furniture-tossing fight in which only the actors go unscathed. It’s
not always a wise move for the writer to direct his own play, but except for
one point at the play’s conclusion (this would be a spoiler), St. Germain has
enough talent to take on both important jobs.
