Constellation's 'Dream' Replay
Strindberg Reawakened in Update

By Celia Wren
Special to The Washington Post
Wednesday, July 4, 2007

Does the Meaning of the Universe lurk inside a padlocked refrigerator -- maybe in the vegetable crisper? It seems a tantalizing possibility in Constellation Theatre Company's brisk, accessible and surprisingly humorous staging of August Strindberg's "A Dream Play."

Despite some uneven acting, the Constellation production -- resourcefully directed by Allison Arkell Stockman -- achieves a hallucinatory flow that suits Strindberg's proto-expressionist drama, which has the goal of imitating "the disjointed yet seemingly logical shape of a dream," with characters that "split, double, multiply, evaporate, condense, dissolve and merge."

The phantasmagoria in this case happens to include a bulky refrigerator weighed down by a rusty chain -- an appliance that Strindberg did not actually refer to in his script back in 1901. But Constellation has opted to produce a 2005 "Dream Play" reworking by British playwright Caryl Churchill (this production is billed as the adaptation's North American premiere).

With a steely command over nightmarish images that recalls her dystopian "Far Away," Churchill has tinkered with Strindberg's text, tightening it and modernizing the language and sensibility, and adding touches of black humor: A speech about salvage from wrecked ships now includes a reference to a "guided-missile launcher," for instance.

In the delirious world of "A Dream Play" -- written a few years after Strindberg's life-changing encounter with the theories of mystic Emanuel Swedenborg -- that refrigerator looms enigmatically through clouds of human suffering. When Agnes, a compassionate goddess (Katy Carkuff), opts to share mankind's lot, she fraternizes with a starry-eyed officer (Matthew Eisenberg); a visionary writer (Misty Demory); an impoverished solicitor (Ashley Ivey); a quarantine master (Craig Klein); and numerous other figures who appear and disappear like the coinages of REM sleep.

Working with what appear to be limited resources, Stockman and her scenic/lighting designer, A.J. Guban, manage to lend momentum to this head trip of a story. The cavelike set contains grimy walls and windows, a ramp and -- in a nice bit of surrealism -- a door that's only of dwarf-height.

Exploiting the spatial segmentation, Guban's invaluable lighting isolates characters in small areas, allowing for startling displacements as one scene darkens and another bursts into view. Brendon Vierra's sound design -- with its bells, gulls, screeches and dripping noises -- is comparably protean.

The production's stronger actors complement these deliberately disconcerting tactics, conjuring up characters who are exaggeratedly distinct. Ivey's Solicitor is particularly satisfying -- simultaneously pathetic and irritatingly passive-aggressive, with a bared-teeth grin. Eisenberg's sudden shifts of attitude as the Officer -- lovelorn, awkward, outraged -- are aptly non-naturalistic, and Lisa Lias and Keith E. Irby are vivid as, respectively, a workaholic maid and a gravelly voiced distributor of advertising bills.

On the other hand, Carkuff always seems a little uncomfortable as a naive, undignified Agnes, traipsing around in a modified blue and purple sari. And the delivery and movement of some of the other ensemble members -- who play multiple roles -- sometimes have an unpolished quality.

Still, the pace doesn't drag, and few moments lack a smartly orchestrated detail or two: the smoke that billows from the Quarantine Master's spray can; the funereal smudges on the Solicitor's manila folders; a burst of tango dancing; a champagne glass the size of a bowling pin.

All in all, it's a promising debut for a company that seems determined to dream big.

A Dream Play, by August Strindberg, in a new version by Caryl Churchill. Directed by Allison Arkell Stockman. Choreography and props design by Ashley Ivey; costume design: Jennifer Tardiff. With Kevin Boggs, Catherine Deadman, Misty Demory, K. Clare Johnson and Callie Kimball. About 90 minutes. Through Sunday at Source Theatre 1835 14th St. NW. Call 1-800-494-TIXS or 1-800-494-8497 or visit http://www.boxofficetickets.com/constellationtheatre.