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Star Telegram
Reviewed by Perry Stewart
Reviewed by Perry Stewart
You don't find a lot of theater companies based in Fort Worth and New York
City. But, then, there is nothing commonplace about Amphibian Productions.
From its venturesome choice of material and impeccable execution to the
ludicrously eccentric design of its current playbill, this group appears
determined never to be described as "ordinary." The Amphibians, several of
whom have ties to Texas Christian University, are staging Richard Greenberg's
off-Broadway hit, Three Days of Rain, in TCU's Hays Theatre. It's their first
effort since returning from New York, where they staged artistic director
Kathleen Anderson Milne's A Leopard Complains of Its Spots. Every facet of
director Jamie Wollrab's production of Three Days is slick and professional.
Performances are riveting, technical credits are immaculate, and harmony with
the text is glorious.
The title is a cryptic entry in a journal that Ned, a famous architect, began as a
young man. His son discovers the volume 35 years later, shortly after the
architect's death. Ned's likewise eminent collaborator died years earlier. In the
first act, the partner's grown children gather to anticipate their legacy and
ponder their father's lives. Walker, the journal keeper's son, opens the play
with an audience-directed monologue that reveals a cornucopia of neuroses.
In a skillfully crafted portrayal, Jason Lambert makes Walker an object of pity,
scorn, and mystery - frequently in the same instant.
Kelly Mares provides a contrasting sense of order as Nan, Walker's "normal"
sister. Carman Lacivita, impressive as one of the actors/craftsmen in
Shakespeare in the Park's A Midsummer Night's Dream last year, is noteworthy
here as Pip, son of Ned's partner, Theo. Walker's character refers to Pip as
"torpid." Don't believe it. His discourse on how Oedipus might have averted
various tragedies in his life is delightful, as are the reactions of Walker and
Mares. The first segment stands alone as a one-act play. The second, while
tantalizing in concept, is less rewarding. It takes place in 1960, 35 years prior
to Act I, with the same three actors portraying their parents as young adults.
We learn things about the artists as young men that their offspring probably
never knew, such as how Walker came to be named Walker, and far weightier
secrets. Lacivita stretches the least in this flashback, and his final scene is the
only wrong note in the play. One wants to blame playwright and director more
than actor for this imperfection. Mares, meanwhile, makes a major leap of
acting, playing a fading Southern belle with just the right portions of
dissonance, cynicism, and self-pity. The venue merits praise, too. The Hays
Theatre is a small, audience-friendly arena that inspires technical prowess - as
evidenced by Chad Jung's lighting and David Murden's sound design.
City. But, then, there is nothing commonplace about Amphibian Productions.
From its venturesome choice of material and impeccable execution to the
ludicrously eccentric design of its current playbill, this group appears
determined never to be described as "ordinary." The Amphibians, several of
whom have ties to Texas Christian University, are staging Richard Greenberg's
off-Broadway hit, Three Days of Rain, in TCU's Hays Theatre. It's their first
effort since returning from New York, where they staged artistic director
Kathleen Anderson Milne's A Leopard Complains of Its Spots. Every facet of
director Jamie Wollrab's production of Three Days is slick and professional.
Performances are riveting, technical credits are immaculate, and harmony with
the text is glorious.
The title is a cryptic entry in a journal that Ned, a famous architect, began as a
young man. His son discovers the volume 35 years later, shortly after the
architect's death. Ned's likewise eminent collaborator died years earlier. In the
first act, the partner's grown children gather to anticipate their legacy and
ponder their father's lives. Walker, the journal keeper's son, opens the play
with an audience-directed monologue that reveals a cornucopia of neuroses.
In a skillfully crafted portrayal, Jason Lambert makes Walker an object of pity,
scorn, and mystery - frequently in the same instant.
Kelly Mares provides a contrasting sense of order as Nan, Walker's "normal"
sister. Carman Lacivita, impressive as one of the actors/craftsmen in
Shakespeare in the Park's A Midsummer Night's Dream last year, is noteworthy
here as Pip, son of Ned's partner, Theo. Walker's character refers to Pip as
"torpid." Don't believe it. His discourse on how Oedipus might have averted
various tragedies in his life is delightful, as are the reactions of Walker and
Mares. The first segment stands alone as a one-act play. The second, while
tantalizing in concept, is less rewarding. It takes place in 1960, 35 years prior
to Act I, with the same three actors portraying their parents as young adults.
We learn things about the artists as young men that their offspring probably
never knew, such as how Walker came to be named Walker, and far weightier
secrets. Lacivita stretches the least in this flashback, and his final scene is the
only wrong note in the play. One wants to blame playwright and director more
than actor for this imperfection. Mares, meanwhile, makes a major leap of
acting, playing a fading Southern belle with just the right portions of
dissonance, cynicism, and self-pity. The venue merits praise, too. The Hays
Theatre is a small, audience-friendly arena that inspires technical prowess - as
evidenced by Chad Jung's lighting and David Murden's sound design.