Sunday, September 07, 2008
A+E, Theater, Reviews

Without a clue

Veteran plays receive elementary treatment

BY BERT OSBORNE

Quoting one of its characters, “There’s nothing more deceptive than an obvious fact”—but is “Sherlock Holmes: The Final Adventure” an homage to Victorian-era melodramas or a spoof of one? It’s hard to tell in director Jessica Phelps West’s season opener for Theatre in the Square, a 2006 adaptation (by Steven Dietz) of an 1899 play co-written by Arthur Conan Doyle (and based, in turn, on two of his popular detective stories). In either event, the production is heavy on tedious exposition and light on decisive action. File it under soporific, Doctor Watson.

Perhaps cast members didn’t get the same memo about whether to pitch it straight-faced or tongue-in-cheek. Brik Berkes’ broad buffoonery as a Bohemian king (whose imminent wedding is threatened by a compromising photo with his mistress), for example, comes replete vith one of zose cheesy accents in vich he substitutes a “v” or a “z” for zee vords zat start vith “w” or “th.” Fellow scenery-chewing cut-up Scott Warren portrays a number of smaller roles, whose only distinguishing features are their costume changes. At the very least, West resists the urge to have actor Charles Horton adopt any Nigel Bruce-ian shtick as the venerable sidekick, Watson.

Horton barely makes him an interesting presence at all, stepping in and out of scenes to deliver prosaic narration (the plot thickens in flashback, following Holmes’ apparent death). So it goes with the other straight men: As the “formidable adversary,” Professor Moriarty, Barry Stoltze isn’t sufficiently commanding or sinister; and nice as it is to see Christopher Ekholm back on stage again, he lacks a certain “malevolent intent” as a criminal underling. And it goes for the straight woman, too: While Elizabeth Wells Berkes (as a cunning opera diva) may seem ideally suited for any character described as “incandescent,” even she’s uncommonly bland.

Theoretically, of course, “The Final Adventure” is primarily about Holmes. For whatever reason, West casts an out-of-towner (Martin Thompson) as the impossibly deductive Baker Street sleuth, but the actor fails to provide much in the way of new shading or insight. Fans of the books, the old movies and reruns of the BBC/PBS series will recognize that violin he holds (if not plays) and the pipe he (pretend) smokes. Whether it was part of the original stage version or an added emphasis by Dietz, Holmes also shoots cocaine—to absolutely no discernible effect, beyond a casual, passing reference to his “demons taking hold.” The show’s less a yarn than a yawn.

Mart Crowley’s landmark 1968 gay drama “The Boys in the Band” isn’t quite the dated relic Sherlock Holmes is, but based on the mediocre Whole World staging (directed by Michael Snow), it hasn’t aged gracefully. An updated setting or some other contemporary spin might have revitalized the material—and a more talented ensemble might have made better use of the play, as is.

Several New York friends gather for a birthday party. Unlike Holmes’ trifling coke fix, one drink is enough to radically transform actor Charles Green’s host from exhibiting “acceptable social behavior” to being a “sad, pathetic, self-hating homo.” Elsewhere in the cast: Dan Balmer is fine as the resigned birthday boy; Kent Igleheart superficially portrays the conflicted straight guy; Derek Ratliff offers another variation of his patented flamboyant queen; and Thy Pham makes a cute hustler (even if most of his dialogue is poorly timed, projected and/or enunciated). The party’s essentially over long before the play degenerates into a gamey, gay “Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” SP