Thursday, July 21, 2011
Oh, the bliss of ignorance. The scandal of Nestle's marketing of infant formula in developing nations, and the subsequent deaths caused due to the lack of clean water is a historical reality that I was unaware of. Corporate greed and lack of ethics are not surprising, but this significant context was not there for me to hold onto while watching Baitz' Three Hotels. If the play is well made, you shouldn't need that context to make it work. Alas, as this work is constructed of three mammoth monologues, there was little else on which I could hang my hat.
To say that nothing happens in this drama is altogether an understatement. In three acts, we here from a man, his ex wife, and the man again. They speak directly to the audience, part stream of consciousness, part inner monologue. There is no reality. In spite of the title and the busy set design and requisite transitions, there is no place. There are only words. Steven Weber and Maura Tierney were in overdrive, trying to make the plight of these characters compelling, but we needed a bit more in the script to support them. Baitz is no Lindsay-Abaire so the heartache that should accompany the piece is lacking, but he definitely is deserving of accolades for tackling this subject matter.
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