'Ah, Wilderness!': O'Neill With a Grin
By Nelson Pressley
Special to The Washington Post
Thursday, September 13, 2007
"Garbo Talks!" proclaimed ads for the 1930 film of Eugene O'Neill's "Anna Christie," the first talkie from the silent-screen siren. A similar line might be used to describe "Ah, Wilderness," the lone comedy from the King of Pain: "O'Neill Smiles!"
Hugs and laughter are practically the last things you expect from O'Neill, known for such towering dramas (often with autobiographical roots) as "Long Day's Journey Into Night" and "A Moon for the Misbegotten." But "Ah, Wilderness!," performed with easy warmth in the modest American Century Theater production, is an exception. The small-town family is happy on this Fourth of July, 1906. Things turn out well.
That doesn't mean it's altogether easy. Richard Miller, a young man on the verge of college, nearly has his life ruined when his girlfriend's dad intercepts love letters bursting with hot-blooded modern poetry. Seems the shamefaced gal is renouncing him, and Richard's despair is . . . well, it's awful! And full of exclamations! He'll show everyone -- he'll go to the local tavern and get good and drunk!
Ah, liquor: The fuel that revs the engine of self-pity and waste in many an O'Neill play, even this one. Richard's charismatic Uncle Sid is a drunkard par excellence, as we learn during a long comic scene at the dinner table.
Sid, whose inebriation is nicely underplayed by John Collins, has the family in stitches with routines that seem designed to mask his weakness. In short: He'd gladly marry lonely Lilly Miller (Tina Renay Fulp), and she'd marry him, only she disapproves of his chronic boozing.
So exactly what naive Richard will learn at the local dive is a mystery, especially when he starts swigging gin and showing off for an opportunistic tart (Carolyn Myers, coming across more like a college ingenue than a wily working girl). Heartbreak and ruination might lie ahead, or maybe -- thanks to a full moon, true love and a home life that's irrepressibly affectionate -- Richard will come to his senses.
Bob Bartlett's production in Gunston Arts Center's smallish Theater II has a homespun quality that suits the play fine. As Richard's father, Kim-Scott Miller beams with joy, almost overdoing the kindly patience as he lavishes reassuring pats and pecks on the family. Rebecca Herron's reserve as Richard's mother seems right, and in the toughest role, Evan Crump dives headfirst into Richard's wild mood swings. Crump even unveils surprisingly effective comic instincts during Richard's confused moonlit rendezvous with his girl (Emily Webbe, pouting for all she's worth).
As American Century's artistic director, Jack Marshall, notes in the program, "Ah, Wilderness!" has had more takers than usual lately (Baltimore's Center Stage laid a fancy, airy design and live piano on the play last spring). And it's not a snappy comedy; it's more sentimental than laugh-out-loud funny, and O'Neill's big-hearted empathy and nostalgia run the risk -- not always avoided here -- of feeling saccharine.
But audiences may value this transparent, upbeat earnestness all the more because of its source. This is still very much O'Neill country, and it's hard not to watch anxiously these characters blithely skirt the darkness.
