Are you a squeamish person? Do you faint at the sight of blood? Can’t stand to hear the lineup of horrors night after night on the local news? Do savage truths make you quake at your very core?
Well, then do yourself a favor and stay home. New Village Arts’ latest opus, the intensely dramatic documentary “Still Life,” is certainly not for the squeamish. And, as the official Web site declares, it is also not for children and anybody suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.
We’re not talking about your run-of-the mill drama here. “Still Life” is a dramatic experience which makes Michael Moore’s pretentious “Bowling For Columbine” look like an episode of the “Teletubbies.” It is an extremely hard-hitting stage documentary addressing the cycle of violence following one soldier’s return from Vietnam. Through a haze of charged words we learn the story of the soldier Mark (Francis Gerke) and the “real victim of the war,” his viciously abused wife Cheryl (played by Amy Cordileone). Rounding out the cast is Monique Gaffney as Nadine, a woman who seems to idolize Mark as a gentle savant.
The setup for the play is simplicity defined. These three performers spend nearly the entire play seated in uncomfortable chairs, speaking straight to the audience as if into a video camera or a tape recorder. Occasionally a slide show or a record player breaks into the Spartan scene, but for the most part the entire space is filled with the three performers letting fly a schizophrenic dialogue that hits the ground running and doesn’t stop for breath until the play is completed over an hour later.
All three performers should be commended for their Herculean feats of memorization on this play; each easily recites a novel of text without losing the purpose of a single word. The dramatic achievement is incredible. Casting aside the crutches of props, sets or even a linear narrative, New Village Arts’ troupe manages to create a powerful evening of theatre. The raw skill alone is worth the price of admission. But that’s not ultimately why you should attend.
In its stormy journey through violence and misery, “Still Life” offers no answers, only questions. Difficult questions. Important questions. With the intensity of a barbed-wire enema, using both the literal and the metaphoric as guidance, “Still Life” offers its audience a chance to learn of man’s evil and his humanity without any accompanying nagging morals to sully the sublime experience.
