The Conical Glass: Thom's Pain

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Thom's Pain

Last month, when we were in Florida, Joe and I went to see a theatrical monologue called "Thom Pain (Based on Nothing)" by hot young playwright Will Eno. "Thom Pain" is not what I would call a "fun" evening at the theater -- it's a rather brutal, one-hour production in which an actor talks (and talks and talks) about unpleasant events in his childhood and a broken love affair. The thing that made it unique for me was how confrontational the actor is. He wanders through the audience, making eye contact with people, addressing certain spectators directly. Near the end of the play, the actor brings an audience member up on stage with him, making him stand there wordlessly for 5-10 minutes or so as he delivers a particularly wrenching passage.

I made a comment at the time that I was surprised "Thom Pain," which was a hit off-Broadway a few years ago, had reached St. Petersburg before it played in the San Francisco area. Well, no sooner was I back home at my computer than I got an e-mail announcing a local production at the Cutting Ball Theater. It seemed like it would be an interesting experience to see two totally different productions of a work in a relatively short period of time -- something I rarely get to do.

The Cutting Ball is housed in a rather seedy part of the Tenderloin, SF's "skid row," which made me glad I had bought a ticket for the 5 o'clock Sunday matinee -- I wouldn't want to venture into that neighborhood alone after dark. Even in broad daylight, it was a little nervewracking. (My suggestion: from Market St., walk down Ellis to Taylor.) Once you're inside, though, it's a pleasant if basic black box theater.

Jonathan Bock plays the titular character, dressed in a rumpled suit. Bock displays a lot more range than did the first actor I saw in the part; he made Thom more sympathetic, just a tad more likable, even though he isn't exactly the type of guy who inspires warm and fuzzy feelings. Knowing what I did about the audience interaction, I sat well off to the side (you may want to avoid the front row and center aisle unless you have an urge to be part of the show), but he still made eye contact with me at a couple points; I think he did so with everyone there. (It's an intimate theater.) It must be an interesting role, since people react in different ways. Some laugh nervously, others can't bear the actor's scrutiny and look away. There's one point about halfway through the play where Thom is silent for a minute or two, but the first time I saw the show, it felt like hours. I almost had to stuff my fist in my mouth to stifle the urge to laugh. I don't know why I reacted that way, but I guess it was because of nervousness -- isn't an actor's role supposed to be to do something, not just stare at us?

Bock really does an extraordinary job, and delivers Eno's funnier lines with deadpan wit ("I'm the type of person you might not hear from for some time, but then, suddenly, one day, bang, you never hear from me again."). There are a lot of laughs, but I wouldn't call the show a comedy. Still, I feel that the second time around, I got a lot more enjoyment out of Eno's clever script, without being so distracted by the gimmickier aspects of the play.

posted by 125records @ 8:09 PM

0 Comments: