Audiences
at Edward Albee's
groundbreaking "The Zoo Story," which premiered in 1969, were left with many
questions. Most of them concerned Peter, the middle-aged, middle-class man in
the two-character, one-act play. They knew a lot more about the stranger,
Jerry, who starts talking to him as Peter sits on a bench trying to read in New
York's Central Park. Most of the questions focused on Peter's character. What
made him tick? What was his home life like?
Albee
undertook to answer those questions in a 2004 one-act, "Homelife," which takes place in
Peter's apartment before he goes to the park At first, the two plays were been
performed together under the title "Peter and Jerry." Now they're called "At
Home at the Zoo."
That's the combination being staged by American Conservatory Theater under the direction of Rebecca
Bayla Taichman.
And now that Albee has addressed at least some of the questions in "The
Zoo Story," audiences are left with new and different questions: What
happens when Peter gets home from what turns out to be a tragedy in the park?
Does he tell Ann, his wife? If so, how does she react, and how is their
relationship affected? And observers might be wondering what they would do in a
similar situation. Maybe Albee needs to write a third one-act play as a sequel.
Even
though Peter, played by Anthony Fusco, is featured in both acts, the two are quite different
from each other. The first act comes off as more interesting because there's
more give-and-take conversation between him and Ann, played by René Augesen. She does most of the talking at
first, coming into their living room from the kitchen while he, a book editor,
sits reading what he says is a boring manuscript. As the conversation
continues, however, he becomes more involved and they talk about their love for
each other and what they want from their relationship. He says he wants "a
smooth voyage on a safe ship." She says, "We love each other too
safely." She wants more excitement, especially sexually. They actually do
become animated, bouncing on their sofa, but they get hold of themselves, say
they love each other, and he goes off to read in the park, as is his habit on a
Sunday afternoon. George and Martha of "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf" they are not.
Perhaps
there will be more excitement, though not necessarily sexual, after Peter
returns from his encounter with Jerry, played by Manoel Felciano. Jerry seems intent on telling
Peter about his just-completed visit to the zoo, but all we learn is that he
was at the lions' cage when the keeper went to feed it. Jerry never gets around
to saying much more about that. Instead he launches into an extended monologue
about the seedy rooming house where he lives, the other tenants, the disgusting
landlady and his efforts to make peace with her ferocious dog. Along the way,
we realize that Jerry is a seriously disturbed young man, something that
becomes even more apparent when he tries to commandeer Peter's place on the
bench even though there's identical bench right next to it. The confrontation
leads to tragedy, though not instigated by Peter.
Robert
Brill's set
design for the two acts is quite revealing, especially for Peter and Ann's
apartment, which is mostly stark white in decor, lacking anything on the walls
to warm it up. The park scene is equally simple, with just the two benches and
a green backdrop (lighting by Stephen Strawbridge). Likewise, Jake Rodriguez's sound design is revealing --
virtual quiet in the apartment, contrasted with airplane and traffic noise as
well as birds in the park. David F. Draper's costumes suit the characters, with Ann and
Peter in casual but stylish outfits and Jerry scruffy in jeans, a sweatshirt
and knit hat.
Augesen
and Fusco work beautifully together in their act. Because there's so little
action, the tension and characters could be difficult to develop in less
skilled hands, but these two actors navigate it skillfully, guided by Taichman.
Fusco continues his fine work in the second act, but Felciano's Jerry grows
tiresome. One wonders why Peter doesn't just walk away from him early in the
encounter because he's such a manic pest.
With
45 years separating the writing of the two plays, one can see that Albee has
become even more skilled than he was in the past. Thus, "At Home at the
Zoo" can be seen not only as a thought-provoking evening at the theater
but also the chance to see the growth of an artist.
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