Dirty Story

Reviewed by Holly Bartges

There certainly is nothing funny about conflict, no matter what it is or who and what it is between. In a brilliant stroke of genius, playwright, John Patrick Stanley focused on the reality of political madness following his eyewitness account of 9/11. With brain in gear, he dived head first into the forever on-going tug of war tearing apart the Arab-Israeli worlds. Not a conflict of recent history, as some think. Rather a conflict whose footprints trace back even before Biblical memory. Different people involved all for the same reasons: Territorial rights. Shanley decided he needed to tell a story, a dirty story, flirting with sexual innuendos, violence, blustering rage, apparent indecision, coiled in four characters, couched in honest humor.

Susan Pourfar as Wanda and John Hutton as Brutus in the Denver Center Theatre Company’s season opening production of Dirty Story. Oscar-winner (Moonstruck) John Patrick Shanley’s hilarious allegorical gut-punch of a play – directed by Anthony Powell – runs in The Space Theatre thru November 13. Photo by Terry Shapiro

Playing at the Space Theatre at the Bonfils Complex in the Denver Center For Performing Arts, it was an awesome decision to choose the theatre in the round, to grab the audience in all directions.

It has been said Act 1 and Act 2 impress as two different plays, but knowing it is allegorical to begin with, the catastrophic events of Act 1 play straight into the hands of Act 2.

Wanda, deliberately and consciously played by Susan Pourfar, seeks out Brutus, brought to life by John Hutton. A hopeful, homeless writer, she seeks guidance from her idol, a rich, successful writer busy acting out writer’s block frustration. He’s read her novel, tearing it to shreds with Brutus-strength, and violent word attack. Undaunted by a writer’s sense of curiosity, Wanda pursues his vicious comments. He tells her the novel is no good. He thinks she’s a tomboy wearing jeans. He roguishly lets her know no one wants to hear what she has to say. She pursues.

In his large sparsely furnished loft, he observes, manipulates through her on guard naiveté playing her like a well-strung violin. He cons and confuses her with brutal attacks and humorous asides while zeroing in on the once silent movie serial The Perils of Pauline. Hutton’s power and strength feed into the bigger than life Brutus. Pourfer allows Wanda to flow through her. He may have the upper hand now, but Pourfer’s body language indicates rhyme and reason crawls just under the skin.

The sexual innuendo is brutal in its suggestion, but don’t give up on it here. The surprise attack comes and everything seen and heard falls firmly into place. It’s an allegory remember? Wanda really isn’t Wanda. She’s Israel. Brutus speaks from the Arab world. Everything witnessed on stage, has been read about over and over again. This time the story takes on visual affects.

If there is a weakness anywhere in the script, it is the ending which just sort of fizzles. Of course sides can’t be taken for obvious political reasons. The direction of the story fizzles with no resolution in sight, but the actors stay their ground with awesome enchanting direction. They know there can be no resolution. It’s checkmate.

Directed by Anthony Powell and an ingenious set design by Michael Brown that has a toy train running in circles hung high above the stage, as the actors dance in circles with feet on the floor and heads in the clouds. Startling lighting design came from the creative mind of Charles R. McLeod.

Apparent minor characters in Act 1 Randy Moore and Mike Hartman revolve into major hitters in Act 2. Fat, pompous, clinging to a holier than thou, attitude, Hartman ostentatiously turns Frank into America, “If everyone were like me, there would be no conflict.” Moore, as Watson, a barkeep, balances on the fence. He certainly doesn’t want to offend anyone. Tentatively he speaks his mind with apologies laying England’s political stance neatly on the boards. And the four dance together. Literally. In the midst of the harsh sharp painful reality, the dance levels the brutality with the honesty of territorial madness.

The biting sliced humor slides into place by the proficient talented actors who know when and how to bring the humor to light. In the midst of the heart rending torn apart struggle. The danger here is laughing so hard lines are lost.