OLD CLOWN WANTED TRAP DOOR THEATRE Unplanned …Visniec. Born in Romania and given political asylum...

40 CHICAGO READER | DECEMBER 9, 2005 | SECTION ONE

Theater

By Justin Hayford

America may be theWestern country leastreceptive to absurdism,

the post-World War II Europeanliterary movement that holds theuniverse is indifferent to humanactions no matter how noble,well-intentioned, or pathetic.For Americans all actions serve apurpose, but especially thosethat increase our net worth;with the aid of pop psychologyand sufficient profits, the uni-verse will smile on us in perpe-tuity. And given Americans’mania for novelty, how impor-tant can a 50-year-old art move-ment be anyway?

Yet absurdism is alive and wellin Europe, being carried on inpart by its most popular, prolificcurrent proponent, MateiVisniec. Born in Romania andgiven political asylum in Francein 1987, Visniec didn’t receivehis American premiere until

2004, nearly30 yearsafter hewrote hisfirst play. Ofcourse, hiswork wasn’tshown inRomaniauntil its lib-eration in

1989, when he quickly becamethe most frequently producedplaywright in his home country:though he’d written 20 scriptsby then, they’d all been banned.When Old Clown Wanted pre-miered at the Biennale Bonn in

1992, it put Visniec on the inter-national map: since then it’sbeen performed in at least adozen countries. It still wasn’tproduced in the States until July2004, when the New JerseyRepertory Company gave it itsU.S. premiere under Gregory A.Fortner’s direction. Now TrapDoor Theatre offers its produc-tion, also staged by Fortner. It opened November 18 butreopens this week after a briefhiatus for performances at NewYork’s “Act French” festival.

It’s easy to understand theappeal of Old Clown Wanted—asweet but disturbing portrait ofthree aging out-of-work per-formers—in Trap Door’s intelli-gent, well-paced production.Waiting in a barren, windowlessanteroom to audition for onespot with an unnamed circustroupe are the Stan Laurel-esque Niccolo, his bullying for-mer friend Filippo, and theirMachiavellian mentor Peppino.In an obvious homage toBeckett’s seminal work of absur-dist theater, Waiting for Godot,the clowns spend most of theirtime puffing themselves up andbelittling one another. Butunlike Beckett, Visniec makes itclear that his characters havebeen deeply injured by theirobsolescence, both professionaland existential. Each dragsaround a suitcase stuffed withbroken-down props throughwhich he can relive his glorydays—although the unsophisti-cated, unimaginative routines

they enact for one another sug-gest they never worked muchbeyond the birthday-and-bar-mitzvah circuit. (“No one laughsat somersaults anymore,”Niccolo laments.) Howeverquestionable their talent,

though, these clowns once feltloved in their profession. Nowthey’re left to snipe at oneanother while clutching at animpersonal crumb tossed themby a prospective employer whocan’t be bothered to show up for

the audition—if he exists at all.Fortner’s three actors take an

aptly understated approach,emphasizing the weariness andlooming paralysis of these lostsouls. Circus-Szalewski asNiccolo, John Gray as Filippo,

Unplanned ObsolescenceMatei Visniec’s absurdist take on aging into irrelevance

OLD CLOWN WANTED TRAP DOOR THEATRE

Old Clown Wanted

WHEN Reopens 12/8,8 PM. Through 1/14:Thu-Sat 8 PM.WHERE Trap DoorTheatre, 1655 W. CortlandPRICE $20, two for one ThuINFO 773-384-0494

BEAT

A P

ILCH

and Bob Wilson as Peppino areall appealing performers—andpsychologically nimble enoughto bounce convincingly throughVisniec’s erratic, sometimes sur-real dialogue: the clownsexpress undying love for oneanother one moment, for exam-ple, and limitless contempt thenext. Fortner exploits the lyri-cism in Alison Sinclair’s slightlyarch translation, turning this90-minute show into a subtle,extended clown routine inwhich the three seem to betrapped unawares. The produc-tion’s gentle stylization, com-bined with Ewelina Dobiesz’sbare-bones set design, suspendsthe action in a void, which givesthe play a metaphorical reso-nance. And though the perform-ances are not without emotionalnuance, the actors don’t fullyembody their characters: it’s asif they were asking the audienceto pretend along with themrather than believe wholeheart-edly in the stage reality.

Richard Norwood’s lightingdesign emphasizes the criticaldistance the actors maintainfrom their roles. Banks of fluo-rescent tubes have been installedfor this show, and most of thetime they mercilessly illuminateevery unattractive nook on therudimentary stage (as well asmost of the audience). But onthe few occasions when a clowndelivers a monologue, the fluo-rescents snap off to leave theactor in a pool of warm, self-consciously “nostalgic” light.When the monologue is over, the fluorescents flicker back on,as though the lights were beingrun by a stern third-gradeteacher who wanted everyone to get back to work.

Trap Door’s distancing devicesmay alienate viewers who attendtheater primarily to be moved:in general this productionspeaks more to the mind thanthe heart. It’s as though Fortnerwould rather the audiencereflect on this odd little playthan get caught up in it. Butthat distance can make theevening more poignant, as audience members have the time and space to ruminate.I thought about how the clownish, playful parts of ourselves do fall into obsoles-cence. If, as Noel Coward says,the most we have is a talent to amuse, it seems our bestselves will wither. v

CHICAGO READER | DECEMBER 9, 2005, 2005 | SECTION ONE 41