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She
Talks. He Talks. Let's Go to the Videotape.
By BEN BRANTLEY
Life somehow seems fuller in
two dimensions than it does in three in Kate Robin's
''Intrigue With Faye,'' a new sex comedy in which,
yes, lies and videotape figure prominently.
In theory, the thrill of this production,
which opened last night at the Acorn Theater under
Jim Simpson's direction, should come from seeing,
full-size and in the flesh, two stars who have long
inspired lust and admiration on the small screen:
Benjamin Bratt (late of ''Law and Order'') and Julianna
Margulies (best known as Nurse Carol Hathaway on ''E.R.'').
Yet such wit, sensuality and satiric
flair as the play has -- and we're not talking large
quantities -- are confined almost entirely to the
show's videotaped sequences. Since ''Intrigue'' is
about a couple that searches for greater intimacy
by recording their actions on camera, you could argue
that this is appropriate. Still it seems unlikely
that anyone involved intended to make the argument
that live theater is as tedious as it appears here.
Actually the larger themes of ''Intrigue,''
an MCC Theater production, have less to do with the
dehumanizing impact of contemporary technology than
with the age-old issues of trust and truth in love.
After Lissa (Ms. Margulies), a therapist, learns that
her lover, Kean (Mr. Bratt), a documentary maker,
has been cheating on her, they agree to an experiment
in which every move each makes will be videotaped
and shown to the other.
This gives rise to a lot of earnest,
reciprocal navel-gazing that brings to mind fevered,
callow college students discussing relationships with
a capital R. Kean may be ''crippled by self-loathing,''
as Lissa says to him. But as speakers, they are both
crippled by trendy therapeutic jargon and a lack of
original insight.
Ms. Robin, a writer and producer on
the excellent ''Six Feet Under,'' is presumably parodying
such psychobabble. And ''Intrigue'' might have made
a tasty 10-minute study of self-deluding neurotics
of the sort that Mike Nichols and Elaine May perfected
decades ago. But stretched over two hours, the show
turns into a sustained whine, mercifully interrupted
by tape bites in which guest stars like Gretchen Mol,
Craig Bierko and Swoosie Kurtz appear all too fleetingly.
Some of the problems have to do with
the surprising lack of chemistry between the stars,
although they do build up a promising bit of steam
in a videotaped prologue that finds them necking on
the streets and in the hallway. (The tapes are shown
on a screen that, when not in use, suggests a color-field
painting on the wall of their sparsely furnished apartment,
designed by Riccardo Hernandez; Dennis Diamond is
the video designer.)
Ms. Margulies, a radiant stage actress
in Jon Robin Baitz's ''Ten Unknowns'' several seasons
ago, gives a clear, articulate performance here that
unfortunately fails to find intriguing depths in her
irritating character's shallows. Onstage, Mr. Bratt
seems practically to swallow himself, he is so slight
and self-conscious a presence. Yet translated into
tape, he suddenly acquires a compelling spark of life.
The magic of this metamorphosis at
least gives you something to consider while two characters
it is impossible to care about keep droning on about
denial and evasion. Ms. Kurtz is very funny in a taped
sequence in which she plays an obsessive-compulsive
patient of Lissa. And Ms. Mol (also seen only on tape)
brings sly satiric bite to the title role, that of
an ambitious public television producer who sees dollar
signs in the idea of turning Lissa and Kean into reality
television stars.
''It's 'The Osbournes' meets 'The
Bachelor,' '' she exclaims. Ah, if only this were
so. Sitting through ''Intrigue with Faye'' is mostly
like finding yourself in a restaurant within earshot
of literal-minded, logorrheic lovers fresh from a
couples counseling session. Your impulse, in such
cases, is to fix your attention on the television
screen over the bar.
INTRIGUE WITH FAYE
By Kate Robin; directed by Jim Simpson;
sets by Riccardo Hernández; costumes by Fabio
Toblini; lighting by Robert Wierzel; original music
and sound by Fabain Obispo; video design by Dennis
Diamond; director of photography, Tom Houghton; production
stage manager, Stacy P. Hughes; production manager,
B. D. White. Presented by MCC Theater, Robert LuPone
and Bernard Telsey, artistic directors; William Cantler,
associate artistic director. At 410 West 42nd Street,
Clinton.
WITH: Julianna Margulies
(Lissa) and Benjamin Bratt (Kean); special video appearances
by Craig Bierko, Michael Gaston, Swoosie Kurtz, Jenna
Lamia, Gretchen Mol and Tom Noonan.
The
New York Times
Junio
2003
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