Windfall Theatre's 'Stones in His Pockets' has too many holes
One month hence, shamrocks will abound while rivers — and rivers of beer — run green, as America spends a day being Irish. But how much does all that St. Patrick’s Day hoopla — with its legion of drunken Plastic Paddies claiming Irish descent — tell us about who or what the Irish and Ireland really are?
Playwright Marie Jones tackles that issue head on in her perennially popular “Stones in His Pockets,” a hard-hitting comedy with plenty of darkness that’s now on stage at Windfall Theatre under Maureen Kilmurry’s direction.
As things get underway, Hollywood has once again come to Ireland, making a film in picturesque County Kerry. Called “The Quiet Valley,” its plot suggests a passing resemblance to “The Quiet Man.” Indeed, one of the many locals cast as extras is a septuagenarian who’d also been an extra on John Ford’s legendary film.
Two of those extras are Charlie (Robert W.C. Kennedy) and Jake (Joe Picchetti). In a play that has a great deal to say about the corporatization of Ireland, Charlie has been driven out of business by a chain store. Jake has recently returned to the old sod after failing to make it as an actor in New York.
When Kennedy and Picchetti aren’t establishing these two central characters, they’re busy playing 13 others, signaling transitions with glasses, a hat or a scarf (on opening night, both men occasionally forgot to don the appropriate accessory when switching).
Kennedy’s additional roles include a bodyguard, two directors, two more locals, a Christian brother and Caroline, the preening American film star who’d give anything to look and sound more Irish — including sleeping with the natives.
Picchetti’s additional roles include spins as a female assistant director, Caroline’s dialect coach, a television journalist, a rigger on the film crew, a troubled youth and the aforementioned “Quiet Man” extra.
Playing so many characters necessarily includes the risk of playing to type. Jones’ satire is often broad; these two actors go even broader, frequently scoring easy laughs at the cost of deeper meaning. They vamp particularly hard in playing the women.
All these over-the-top gymnastics also make it harder for the guys to establish their central characters. And I couldn’t help thinking they were miscast. It’s much easier to imagine Kennedy as the cynical Jake; Picchetti, who struggles early to project such world-weariness, would seem to be a better fit as the ostensibly optimistic Charlie.
All of which is to underscore that “Stones” is a challenging piece to get right, technically and tonally; that may be why we haven’t seen a major production here since the memorable Next Act production in 2004. This “Stones” drags, weighed down by the burdens these actors must carry.
“Stones in His Pockets” continues through Feb. 24 at Village Church Arts, 130 E. Juneau St. For tickets, visit windfalltheatre.com. Read more about this production at TapMilwaukee.com.
PRODUCTION NOTES
Combined and uneven development: As the prolific Michael Lewis notes in “Boomerang” — a book that takes a hard look at the rise and fall of Ireland’s moment as Celtic Tiger — nearly 1 million of Ireland’s 3.2 million people in the 1980s were living below the poverty line. By 2000, the country’s poverty rate was below 6% and Ireland was, per capita, one of the richest countries in the world (as Lewis notes, the bubble would burst during the ensuing worldwide economic meltdown). First performed in Belfast in 1999, Jones’ play was written during this frenzied, speculation-fueled moment, in which rural Ireland became a tax haven and tourist destination — even as many of those who’d lived and worked the land for centuries were pushed out. Her play captures that moment in all its ambivalence, with a glamorous culture of consumption pitted against a traditional agrarian economy (cows play a crucial symbolic role in this play).
Shoes: Numerous pairs of shoes against the upstage wall give an early hint of how many characters each actor will inhabit. In a play that continually highlights how limited our perspective can be, that prop also suggests how hard it is for these characters to walk in another’s shoes, cultivating the empathy that might allow them to bridge their cultural divide. (Windfall’s program doesn’t credit a props director; the scenic design is by Carl Eiche.)
Treasure chest: A rolling trunk not only serves as a clothes-dispensing locker. Its panels also unfold to suggest a local pub (dartboard included) and Caroline’s trailer. More important, it reminds one of a traditional actor’s or magician’s chest, stood on its head; in that capacity, it serves as a counterbalance to the fancy equipment and production values shaping a Hollywood story of the “real” Ireland. One character at a time, the two protagonists remind us instead that flesh-and-blood people tell stories and shape history.
Live theater: Jones also hereby tacitly distinguishes between Hollywood films and makeshift theater, suggesting that the latter is humbler, more democratic, more flexible, and more open to seeing stories as multiple and ever-changing — while being made by the people rather than being imposed, top down. It’s no accident that as this story progresses, our dynamic duo is increasingly prone to seize the narrative reins, refusing their prescribed roles as Hollywood extras while insisting that they have the right to tell their own story, their own way.
Attention must be paid: Speaking of live theater, regular readers of these notes know that among the many reasons I write them is a commitment to honoring and preserving the memory of productions past — so easily forgotten because theater itself, live and of the moment, is so ephemeral. And so: The Next Act production alluded to above was directed by C. Michael Wright. It featured James Ridge as Jake and Gerard Neugent as Charlie. It was a tour de force for both actors. It opened on April 2, 2004 — a seasonably cold and slightly breezy day — as the final show in Next Act’s 14th season. It has stuck with me; I’d wager a pint of Guinness that the same can be said for those of you who saw it.