EDGE on the Net

There’s an old theater saying that the best Tennessee Williams parodies are bad productions of Williams’ plays. The playwright’s style is so melodramatic that, unless you possess the skills to pull it off, you drown. David Mamet might not be quite as much of a challenge, but he comes close enough to merit the distinction that, unless everyone involved is superb, the play looks more like an acting exercise than finished theater.

The two-character, star-driven, 80-minute production of Oleanna, at the Golden Theatre, might just be the most rewarding acting exercise in town. Bill Pullman and Julia Stiles (revising their Los Angeles roles in this story of sexual harassment and the struggle for power) are not only dedicated, passionate performers, the play, written in the aftermath of the Clarence Thomas/Anita Hill spectacle, leaves you with more questions than your SATs.

Set in a New England University, John (Pullman) is advising his student, Carol (Stiles), on how to get a better grade. Or so it would seem. In three quick scenes, John’s been accused by Carol of sexual harassment -- among other things -- and the professor’s life is on the verge of ruin. The wisdom of the play rests in our being observers to what actually takes place between teacher and student, as opposed to what the outsiders make of the situation.

Having not seen the original off-Broadway production, I have no idea if the pendulum’s been switched, but in this version the victim is so clearly John I’d be afraid to share a taxi with anyone who felt otherwise. (The press materials say audiences "fiercely side with either character.") What’s tragic about Oleanna is how easily everything John does and says is turned around. John’s, at worst, a bombastic idiot, at best, a bad teacher. The only thing he’s guilty of is stupidity in his handling of the student.

Oleanna works wonders as a reminder of how the word "sex" prematurely kills rational thinking and can be abused by its very utterance. Unfortunately, it’s also meant to be a play about the relationship between two people, and that’s where this production fails. Under Doug Hughes’ direction, Pullman starts out in pretty much the same ceiling-high neurotic level as he does in the end, giving the actor no maneuver room, and making us wonder why in heck he’s so gosh-darn nervous from the get-go. What should be a seemingly frivolous opening scene, with nonsense banter about his failures, his book, higher education, and terminally annoying phone-call interruptions, is instead a scene about Pullman working his darnedest to look terrified.

Stiles’ character, like her femme fatale predecessor in Mamet’s Speed-the-Plow, is a mass of so many contradictions my hat’s off to any actress willing to take on the challenge. Stiles plays it wonderfully cold (she’s a natural onstage), which works until she contradicts her own interpretation near the end. Whatever choices the actress had made (and she’s done her homework) don’t equate by the time you’ve left the theater and discussed the play (which you will).

More problematic is that Mamet, as always, constructs the play around his clipped cut-off sentences that work as their own language, or, as in Williams, melody. He also writes gibberish into a play that is about anything but. Unless you’re right on pitch, the play, and actors, go flat. Too often Pullman and Stiles are under the note, so we watch them act separately instead of with each other. You can’t anticipate the lines in a Mamet play; you can only revel in their aftermath.

The set by Catherine Zuber is an appropriately cold teacher’s office, helped by Donald Holder’s cruel lighting (though a lawsuit may be needed for whoever came up with the ridiculously overdone blinds-lowering-opening sequences). If you have the time, stay for the Talk-Back after the show, in which various panelists discuss the themes of the play. It’s almost as if an acting teacher opened up the floor to discuss the exercise we’d just witnessed.

Oleanna plays at the Golden Theatre, 252 W. 45th Street. For more information visit the Golden Theatre website.