THE
ELEPHANT MAN
Open Circle Magazine
Volume IV – No. 1 (September 8, 1999)
by Lee Winston
Review The Elephant Man at Theatre @ St. Clement’s
The Elephant Man, Bernard Pomerance’s story of John Merrick a
man of great physical ugliness who fascinated and obsessed Victoria’s
London in the 1880’s, has returned to the New York stage for the first
time since its Broadway opening twenty years ago – and welcome back.
The Elephant Man, at Theatre @ St. Clement’s for a limited run,
has been given an ambitious and beautiful production smoothly directed
by Bart Lovins and produced by Theatre @ St. Clement’s and Kevin Jay
Productions.
Mr. Lovins is a very young man from Louisville, Kentucky, whose work
is well worth watching. That "smoothly" above is hard won,
because Mr. Pomerance’s play is written as a series of blackout
sketches, and that is not what Mr. Lovins chose to stage. He has
invented out-of-time sequences and street life occurrences that make a
seamless unfolding of illusion and dramatic substance that seem to come
"through a glass darkly" joining our time to that one. The
effect makes obvious their social context and intensifies any feelings
these characters evoke; it oddly makes them more ours. The shadow
of Darwin had shaken their society, and it is still not quiet in ours
– witness the Kansas creationism flap.
The weight of the play rests on its Merrick and its Dr. Treves,
played here by two very able young men – Steve Gibbons and Steven
Williams respectively – and strongly abetted by three others. First is
Melissa Gray as the actress Mrs. Kendall, who reads to Merrick, becomes
his friend and who has noticed that deformed as much of his body is he
is sexually normal. Second is Davis Hall who plays the dour and dry Carr
Gomm, head of the hospital, who supports Treves’ work, sees its
exploitative potential for the benefit of the hospital and yet also sees
to the needs of Merrick and Treves. He cold-bloodily dismisses a gawking
porter for disobedience, adroitly gets rid of a highborn con man, smugly
writes self-serving letters to the Times and warns an ebullient Treves
that the job will have "consolations", a word Treves does not
at first comprehend. Mr. Hall’s portrayal is impressively understated,
quiet and absolutely authoritative. Third of these deft abettors is
Richard Pruitt as Bishop Walshan Howe, an assertive, blustery and
self-important clergyman who is fascinated by Merrick, sees his faith,
and takes charge of Merrick’s spiritual instruction.
It is the playwright’s delight to show us that all the people whose
lives Merrick touches see Merrick as "like me", especially
these three. The message seems a pathetic need to share in another’s
celebrity, but it comes from a profound humanity that emanates from
Merrick. The play might even be subtitled "...or How an Unfortunate
Caused His Keepers to See God".
Undaunted by the responsibilities of their roles, Gibbons and
Williams are heartbreaking, each rising to the big moments with aplomb.
In a late scene in Act II, when Merrick is building a model of St.
Phillip’s Church, he asks Treves about rules "for your own
good" and says, "You don’t believe, do you?" Treves
stammers on about why he sent Mrs. Kendal away; he happened into the
room, you see when Mrs. Kendal was showing her bared breasts to Merrick.
Treves has thought only improper things, but Kendal had only risen to
Merrick’s request to see, for the first time in his life, young,
healthy woman’s body, one not fat, withered or distorted. Then Merrick
throws Mr. Williams’ Treves into complete confusion when he calls the
doctor "merciful. I myself am proof of it." This leads to
Treves’ "mad scene", including a mirror of his lecture to
medical students by a suave, normal, well dressed and wry Merrick with a
clothed but emotionally naked Treves on display. This sequence alone,
and the actors’ superb work in it, is sufficient reason to see the
production, on display at St. Clement’s until September 25th.
And that is a bare beginning.
Pride of place must go to Steve Gibbons, the slender, blonde,
six-foot-plus actor who plays John Merrick. He conveys the need, the
humanity and terror of Merrick before he comes to the hospital, endures
nakedness during the medical lecture and the confusion during the bath
in his room which seems to be about everyone in the world except him,
the quiet center of the storm.
During Mr. Lovins’ prologue and various crowd scenes Mr. Gibbons
plays several other people, and during his death scene he dances a brief
waltz with Mrs. Kendal. Gibons, of course, is not deformed, but has the
stances and moves to make one believe completely that his character is.
Three sequences may haunt you: Ross, played by Ty Stover, the manager
who abandoned Merrick in Belgium but now is in need himself. He wants to
go back into business, wants a percentage, talks of whores and business
partners, but Merrick sends him away saying "I’m sorry. That’s
just the way things are. Be content." Second item is the Nurse
Sandwich scene. Sandwich, played by Barbara Crafton, applies for the job
of the nurse who will feed Merrick. Dr. Treves insists that he will hold
the lunch tray. The severe and bitter woman Ms. Crafton plays is full of
confidence until she sees Merrick. Though Treves has warned her that he
is "beyond ugly", she seems to fall apart and beats a hasty
retreat. Merrick wryly thanks Treves for "saving the lunch this
time." The third haunting moment with Mr. Gibons occurs when Dr.
Treves decides to introduce the actress Ms. Kendal to Merrick. She is
impressed and suggests that all London would be proud to know Merrick,
and that friends would make his life more normal. The doctor agrees, and
they leave, but the last moment is Merrick’s. His mixed feelings of
once more being on display tear a sob from Mr. Gibbons that will rip
your heart out.
There is new incidental music for this production by Darryl Curry,
which suffuses and underscores the story throughout, in total harmony
with Mr. Lovins’ directorial view. The score has a small song for the
Pinheads in the brutal Belgium scene that becomes a lullaby of the
angels as Merrick dies. These transformations and underlinings accompany
the show at key points, subtly as in a movie and superbly. Mr. Curry is
an Oberlin graduate and a composer/playwright too. Future presenters of The
Elephant Man and Samuel French, take note of this worthy other
option to the original solo cello. The sound design, by Matt Berman,
delivered the score clearly, presently and without distortions; only the
invisible presence of the music made anyone aware of it.
David Barber’s set design provides spacious "street"
above ad below a central raised platform where all the scenes occur: the
London hospital room adjoining Dr. Treves’s office that becomes
Merrick’s home. Mr. Barber’s design is tall and moody, beautifully
extending the St. Clement’s brickwork and rafters into the settings.
Lighting by Josh Bradford is dreamy and darkly atmospheric up high and
cruelly bright up close, enhancing Pomerance’s dark tale. That it all
works so well probably implicates its technical director, Duane Demits.
The costume design, by Sandra King, keeps the dark colors and heavy
fabrics of the late Victorian era, but does not favor the corseted look
one might expect. It is an acceptable alteration; we do not need actors
in pain because another era’s expectations made stupid use of the
human body.
As parting shots, there are attractive bits throughout by the
supporting company: The miserable "sacked" porter, Will, and
the "moral swamp" Lord John, who has lied to the hopital and
misspent the funds, played by Daniel Haughey; Snork, the orderly who
brings Merrick his dinner, played by Kevin Roberge; the elusive mother
of Merrick, whom he loves and who gave him up to the workhouse, whom we
see fairly often in passing, and the flighty duchess, both played by
Heather McKenney; the vicious manager of the pinheads played by William
Koch; the Pinheads, who giggle, sing, cower, and double as Siamese
twins, played by Jennifer Phelps and Marisa Bela, and the sarcastic,
laughing countess played by Ms. Bela; the young Merrick, face swathed in
gray cloth, played by young Teddy Alvaro. His ensemble appearances as
various young men bring youth and welcome variety to the world of the
play, though he has no lines.
See this show. it deserves a long life.