Hip Shot: “Missing Pages”

Missing Pages
Fort Fringe – Redrum

Remaining Performances:
Sunday, July 19th at 6:45 p.m.; Thursday, July 23 at 5:30 p.m.;  Saturday, July 25th at 4:30 p.m.; Sunday, July 26th at 2:15 p.m.

They say: “A World War II hero, his daughter and Vietnam veteran son confront the secrets that haunt and divide them. This powerful new drama, lightened with laughter, was inspired by the author’s father, whose war diary she discovered after his death.

Glen’s Take:  ”Emerging” local playwright Susan Austin Roth is a well-known and highly successful writer of gardening books, so should you see other reviews of Missing Pages busting out a lot of cheap gardening puns, you’ll know why.  Not here, though.  No, faithful F and P reader, here you will find no references to grafting, cutting or pruning;  that is my solemn vow.

A play that revolves around Alzheimer’s has a tough row to hoe.

Senile dementia is characterized by repetition, and that needs to be conveyed; one of Roth’s subjects, here, is the frustration that accompanies caring for aging parent.  For that frustration to register, we have to feel a bit of what is felt by her characters, doting Charlotte (Lynn-Jane Foreman) and taciturn Vietnam vet Andy (Joe Peck) as they struggle to deal with George, their alternately sweet and belligerent father (Robert Leembruggen).

That their father repeats himself so often is dramaturgically fraught, because in drama, repetition good, repetitiveness bad.  Those  moments when Leembruggen’s proud WWII-vet becomes lucid enought to chastise his son for being a deserter, coward and traitor feel real, all right, but they don’t move – they hit such similar dramatic beats that it begins to feel as if whole scenes have been cut-and-pasted throughout the script.

That would be a bigger problem if Leembruggen weren’t so appealing an actor — and one confident enough to convey George’s disease without broad, movie-of-the-week strokes.

Roth is on to something, here; she’s crafted some interesting parallels between father and son.  At this point, she’s still pushing them at us instead of letting us find them, which which is why, I think, the scene in which one of the father’s WWII memories combines with the son’s ‘Nam flashbacks feels as needless and over-the-top as it does.

Director Diana Denley tries to make it work, and is elsewhere quite nimble at the kind of low-fi stagecraft Fringe demands, but it’s no use.

Even so, Roth’s ending is satisfying and legitimately moving. Once her script loses its rhetorical training wheels, and she excises from her dialogue the kind of pre-digested bits of language more apt to crop up on TV than in real life (viz: “And what about what I need?” “He’s your father, too!” and “I know, Dad. I know.”) Missing Pages will be get leaner, tighter, and more effective.  If this current Fringe staging feels a litle shaggy and unkempt, well [GARDENING REFERENCE REDACTED.]

See it if:  You approach Fringe like a theater workshop, and are looking to discover a serious, rough but promising work.

Skip it if: You approach Fringe like last call at Camelot. (Woo!  Boobies!)  Or the phrase “My war was different than your war” sets off alarm bells.

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4 Comments

  1. The Injured List: Fringe Casualties - Fringe & Purge - Washington City Paper

    [...] have room for it in the review, but wanted to honor Foreman’s grit.  She takes a spill, landing on her tailbone, smacking [...]

  2. Capital Fringe Fest 2009: Our Comprehensive Rundown - Fringe & Purge - Washington City Paper

    [...] Missing Pages [...]

  3. The seeds of a good show are all there, but we were all parched in the heat of the Redrum!
    The actors do justice to a heavy but well-conceived script.

  4. The new play “Missing Pages” by Susan Austin Roth is one of the worst pieces of dramatic literature it has ever been my misfortune to sit through. The crowded set and abysmal blocking only exemplified the extraordinarily poor thematic construction of the piece. If the author and director have had any contact with geriatrics suffering from dementias it is obviously limited. Having spent over 10 years working with a geriatric care management firm I can assure you the writing and direction of Andy was about as accurate as an after-school special.
    After having witnessed this debacle, I did some research and found to my dismay that the director, Diane Denley, appears to be a well trained Shakespearean director. As I am a true fan of Shakespearean theater I can only assume that she must typically direct in a very academic fashion. This would explain her complete lack of blocking expertise.
    I have luckily seen a few wonderful plays at this year’s Fringe or I would be tempted to avoid the festival altogether after seeing this atrocious production.

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