"JAMES JOYCE’S THE DEAD" at Court Theatre
BY LUCIA MAURO
Like that ambiguous divide between life and death, Court Theatre’s Midwest-premiere production of "James Joyce’s The Dead" marries stylized metaphor with a voyeuristic naturalism. Richard Nelson’s and Shaun Davey’s theater adaptation, spurred on by a musical throughline, is itself an uncategorizable hybrid. It’s as if the pages of Joyce’s chillingly peaceful story from "Dubliners" – which the play follows almost precisely to the letter – were placed on a stage and brought to three-dimensional life, while being carefully carved into a chamber musical.
Audiences, therefore, feel like guests at the Morkan sisters’ annual turn-of-the-20th century Epiphany gathering at their hospitable Irish home. They also – like the unseen ghosts who inhabit this tale of unrequited love – gaze into the windows and watch a real-time performance unfold. Both engaging and a bit unnerving, "The Dead’s" conversational tone woven through a rather regimented music recital pulled me sporadically in and out of these multigenerational characters’ soulful stories.
It wasn’t until I left the theater and reflected on the work’s exquisite images for a few days that I realized its profound and somber magic. In this holiday story, which refreshingly replaces rhapsodic good cheer with a poetic and content confronting of one’s mortality, the darkness and light of the winter season merge into gracious chiaroscuro mystery.
In "The Dead," the gentle and aging Julia Morkan and her efficient sister Kate – joined by their music-teacher niece Mary Jane – cast a sonorous glow over this full-bodied party. Singers, academics, friends and the household help join together and set into motion fervent debates on nationalism, great opera tenors, the Catholic church’s latest policies and the swift passing of time. At the heart of the story is the Misses Morkans’ literary critic nephew, Gabriel, who arrives with his quietly good-hearted wife Gretta. Gabriel – whose growing cynicism of his country impedes his spirit - has been nervously preparing to give a monumental toast.
Over the course of the evening, Gretta hears a tune from her hometown in her native rural West of Ireland. It sparks a memory that both revives her girlish temperament and threatens to destroy the effortless compatibility she has enjoyed with Gabriel. The latter unfolds during the couple’s stay at a hotel. It’s a revelation involving a young boy who died for Gretta many years ago -- an icy realization that quells Gabriel’s newfound burning passion for his wife aglow in anguished-ethereal reminiscence.
The partygoers’ stories -- entwined with a soft, exquisite luster – waltz through Joyce’s danse macabre. And, as much as we are aware of each guest’s mood and motivation, we feel the wispy encroachment of the ghosts they have replaced. In the stage version, Nelson and Davey place greater emphasis on the elderly Julia, a benevolent woman who has devoted herself to the church choir at "Adam and Eve’s." The foreshadowing of her death, for theatrical purposes, has been unnecessarily exaggerated (involving various fainting bouts) – yet her reunion with her younger self at her death bed (preceded by a breathtaking a cappella serenade) endows the idea of one’s passing with an ineffable serenity.
Court Theatre’s familiar yet dreamy production, directed with a subtle hand by Charles Newell, maintains a rich and immediate intimacy. We hear the chairs creak; singers forget the words to songs and are gently saved by fellow guests; glasses are dropped; and, during a masterfully lit dinner sequence, people interrupt each other, clumsily pass plates and leave a thought dangling somewhere in the ether of bustling camaraderie.
A live band -- featuring Paul Amandes, Martin Benmann, Marie Micol Bennett, Jeff Lewis and Eugenia Wie -- seamlessly frames a cast consisting of Chicago’s most respected theater artists. This production belongs to Deanna Dunagan, softly commanding as Julia – aware with an aching glow of acceptance that she will be ascending to the next level of existence. John Reeger’s Gabriel crisply and fluidly shapes the yin-and-yang tone of the work, while Paula Scrofano’s Gretta contains within her matronly aura a flush of youthful bliss and operatic regret. This heartbreaking trinity most tenderly encompasses Joyce’s signature epiphanies.
Around them swirls an impeccable "chorus" of humanity. Of special note are Kathy Taylor’s secure, even-tempered Kate; McKinley Carter’s sweet perfectionist Mary Jane; Neil Friedman’s jocular Mr. Browne; Christopher Cordon’s tipsy, truth-muttering Freddy; and Hollis Resnik’s confident patriot Molly Ivors.
Much of the delicate beauty of this production can be credited to lighting designer Joel Moritz’s reverential candle-lit hues and Brian Bembridge’s suggestively tiered sets, with the dinner-party scene a festive yet grimly-threaded recreation of Christ’s last supper. Sound designer Bruce Holland transports us to an apropos ambiguous realm; while Linda Roethke’s satiny, earth-tone costumes keep the characters grounded in reality at the same time they point toward life’s cyclical nature.
And, like any gathering, joy and sadness join hands. Audiences will no doubt leave with their own deeply personal drama in their hearts.•
"James Joyce’s The Dead" runs through December 29 at Court Theatre, 5535 S. Ellis Ave. Tickets: $30-$40. Call 773-753-4472 or log onto www.CourtTheatre.org.
