The Island Packet, Friday, March 25, 2005, by Jacquelyn Lewis

Storytelling adds character, drama to 'Luke'

Savvy playwrights were putting Bible stories in the spotlight long before "The Passion of The Christ" took the film industry by storm.

In fact, "St. Mark's Gospel" was so popular when it ran on Broadway in 1978 that the show's sole performer, Alec McCowen, was nominated for a Tony Award for best actor, and the show was revived in 1981.

And "The Accounts of Luke," a one-man show inspired by "St. Mark's Gospel," has been an audience favorite, too, says actor Bruce Kuhn.

"It's a great piece of theater," says Kuhn, a former Broadway actor who premiered "The Accounts of Luke" in 1983 at the Actor's Theatre of Louisville, Ky. Since then, he has performed the show all over the country.

Kuhn first brought "The Accounts of Luke" to South Carolina Repertory Company on Hilton Head Island in December 2001.

"It was a big hit, and lots of people asked us to bring it back," says Hank Haskell, who runs the company's stage alongside his wife, Pat.

The show returns to Hilton Head at 8 p.m. Tuesday at the South Carolina Repertory Company's theater at 136 Beach City Road, and runs through April 3.

"The Accounts of Luke" is based on the book of Luke from the King James version of the Bible. In the show, Kuhn says he approaches the material from a storyteller's point of view.

"Luke wasn't an eyewitness account," Kuhn says. "He just took down eyewitness accounts. He was a historian."

Kuhn portrays Luke, performing passages straight from the Bible, sans props or costumes.

Kuhn adds that he chose the King James version of the Bible because it's meant to be read aloud.

"It's incredibly beautiful language, and it was written to be spoken, just like Shakespeare wasn't meant to be quietly read in a classroom," he says. "It was intended to be spoken with intent and inflection."

And even though the show is based on Bible stories, both Kuhn and the Haskells say audiences don't have to be religious to enjoy "The Accounts of Luke."

"People who aren't of the Christian New Testament faith will enjoy it, too, because (Kuhn) is excellent," Pat Haskell says.

"It's just pure and simple theatrical power," Hank Haskell says.

Kuhn adds that the Bible has all the elements of good drama.

"It's just an incredible story, whether you appreciate it from the point of view of a religious person or not," he says.

Kuhn, who played Montparnasse and understudied the part of Javert in "Les Miserables" on Broadway, says performing "The Accounts of Luke" has been rewarding in deeper ways than the applause he got on Broadway.

"I got tired of doing musicals," he says. "Each musical is a great show, but doing it eight times a week for two years, it was fun but the substance wasn't there. I wanted to be an artist; I wanted to present aspects of reality that people deal with. That's the best thing. That's why I love theater."

And, although "The Accounts of Luke" script has remained the same over the past 22 years, Kuhn says the meaning has changed since he started performing the show.

"I was a different person all those years ago," he says. "My whole approach to the material is different. I have mellowed in the best way. I'm not out to sell anybody on it like I was 20 years ago. Take what you want from it."

But Kuhn says one thing has stayed the same: He still believes "The Accounts of Luke" affects audiences in profound ways.

"It shifts lives around," he says.

The Island Packet, Friday, February 25, 2005, by Gail Westerfield

'The Car' speaks intimately to audiences

The story of "The Car" is both as simple as its title and as complex as the All-American machine for which the play is named. South Carolina Repertory Company's latest production hums in the memory like a well-tuned engine, long after the lights are up.

Beautifully staged and acted, "The Car," by Carol Wright Krause, details the family history of the Banners, Midwesterners unremarkable in many respects and emblematic of the American experience in others.

The story begins in 1953, the day son Hal Banner (Blake White) says, "My father fell in love with a 1954 Hudson."

The car, symbolized by a wheeled metal frame, becomes a remarkable character in its own right and a centerpiece for the family's joys and conflicts. Its sturdy bulk offers the characters experiences both ridiculous -- a failed attempt to go "all the way" in the back seat at a lovers' lane -- and sublime; a baby is born in the same backseat in a snowstorm.

It serves as a witness to husband-wife and father-son conflict and acts as a catalyst for the "emancipation and liberation" of mother Geneva (Diane Egan) and her daughter-in-law, Sumiko (Emy Baysic) when they learn to maintain and drive it, then becoming important figures at Ed Banner's (Chip Egan) car dealership.

The actors move the car adroitly around the stage to indicate scene changes and work together to create a rather spectacular and believable crash near the play's end. The seamlessly choreographed blocking and the actors' very clear and credible relationship with the inanimate object are both signs of excellent, intelligent direction by Tom Evans.

Evans' pacing is lively, and he has created relationships among the actors and between the actors and the audience that are straightforward and surprisingly intimate.

Krause immediately dispenses with the conventional "fourth wall" of theater, so the actors frequently directly address the audience to comment on the action, on their characters, and even on the play's form. A particularly great moment of this occurs when White plays family dog Brutus on a trip through the car wash. As he crosses the stage in an ear-flap hat, he tells the audience, "This is my favorite part of the whole play," and proceeds to create a hilarious and recognizable portrait of canine joy and terror.

White, last seen at SC Rep. in "Professional Skepticism," has terrific stage presence and impressive emotional range. There can be no faking of angst in a space and a play this intimate, and White makes you want to get out of your seat and wrap your arms around him.

Chip Egan, as the stoic father, presents a finely detailed portrait of a man haunted by personal demons that stand in the way of his pursuit of the American Dream. He takes his frustrations out on his family -- especially his long-suffering wife -- and with booze, or reclusive efforts to "resurrect" the car, believing it will somehow bring back the life he wished for, the life it represents to him. As unlikeable as Ed can be, he grows and changes through the course of the story and, near its end, in a beautifully poignant scene, he tells his son "I believe in repair. Geneva taught me that. Keep it. Fix it. Stay."

Diane Egan as Geneva so completely embodies the archetypal Midwestern mother that its difficult to tell if she's acting or not. She balances strength, softness, and good sense without coming across as a sort of unbelievable saint.

Baysic also delivers a nuanced performance as Hal's Japanese bride, Sumiko, a fish out of water determined to use her strength and intelligence to make a life for herself and her family. Robin Lee Gallo plays her daughter, Beth, with appealing energy and wit.

The car-themed pre-show and intermission music was yet another memorable part of this excellent production.

The Island Packet, Friday, December 10, 2004, by Gail Westerfield

'The Drawer Boy' a thought-provoking play

Our sense of ourselves is made up of memories, many of which aren't even really "ours" but are stories we've told or have had told to us, that we come to believe as the truth. What is the power of those stories, to heal or to harm? Can a fiction be more loving than the truth?

In its latest production, Canadian playwright Michael Healey's "The Drawer Boy," South Carolina Repertory continues to bring small, rich, thought-provoking plays to Hilton Head Island.

The simplicity of the play's plot, at least in the first act, belies the beauty and depth of its story and themes. Standard playwriting devices -- the fish out of water, country folk clashing with a city boy ignorant of their ways, a quirky, innocent man-boy and his gruff but compassionate companion -- belie a much deeper and more intricate work.

Set in the 1970s, this beautifully written play explores both the healing and harming powers of the narrative of our lives. Morgan and Angus are best friends since childhood, bachelors who live out their days in the thankless world of farming. In a brilliant opening scene reminiscent of great silent film comedy, Angus (played by the remarkable Jim Stark) patiently makes three ham sandwiches in succession, and he registers no sense of having made the others when at last he's able to eat the third. He clearly suffers from short-term memory loss, and, as the play progresses, we learn that his long-term memory isn't sound, either. He knows Morgan (Chip Egan in a commanding performance), though, and depends on him heavily: for subsistence, basic assistance with devastating headaches and for his only link to a personal history; a story Morgan tells him every night about their young adulthood.

Their odd but comfortable life changes when Miles (Nick Newell), a young actor from a theater collective, appears and asks to stay with them to learn about farm life for a play. Morgan barely tolerates Miles, who's clearly not the sharpest tool in the shed. Some of the play's funniest moments occur when Morgan assigns Miles farm chores such as rotating the fields of planted crops at 3 a.m. or mucking out cow stalls with a dinner fork.

When his theater company won't include the material he's bringing back from the farm in its project, Miles eavesdrops on Morgan's telling of the story of the drawer boy and his friend, Angus and Morgan, in their youths. This neat device provides the play's exposition -- or seems to -- and an explanation of Angus's condition, though the story ultimately proves to be more fiction than fact in many respects.

In the unforgettable second act, Angus begins to rather rapidly recover memories, or what he thinks are memories, after he and Morgan see a rehearsal of Miles's play. To divulge any more of the plot would be unfair, but the writing is even better in the second act.

Stark's portrayal of Angus is perfect. It's a sensitive, detailed performance, somehow both simple and full. He is fully present all the time, no small feat when portraying a character whose mind is a blank slate.

Egan is a revelation as Morgan. Physically, he conveys a man who labors on the land but also one who carries many burdens, year after year, that are not physical but psychic. His deadpan wit leavens the play's heavier themes, yet he does not force the darker, more painful moments.

Perhaps because of his relative youth, Newell simply seems less accomplished than the other actors, less of a fully-formed character, and not completely believable as a member of 1970s theater collective.

Don't miss this play...

The Island Packet, Friday, October 15, 2004, by Gail Westerfield

'Professional Skepticism' a masterful piece of cynicism

If David Mamet had written a play about cutthroat accountants in Charleston, he might have written South Carolina Repertory Company's current production, "Professional Skepticism."

All of the Mamet components are in the play: rough language, overarching ambition and greed, misanthropy, misogyny and homophobia, dark, witty dialogue that makes the audience wince as well as laugh, and great, naturalistic roles for actors to flirt with almost-but-not-quite over-the-top performances.

But "Professional Skepticism" was written by relative newcomer James Rasheed, and in some ways, the play is superior to the canonical works of cynicism by Mamet and others.

It is at once a grand, even Shakespearean revenge tale, and a consistently funny look at the surprisingly compelling drama inherent in corporate accounting practices. At its heart, though, the play is less cynical than insightful as it meticulously examines the distressing state of our modern relationships with our contemporaries, our vocations, and ourselves.

The simple, utilitarian conference room set has a realistic feel to it, enhanced by interesting light fixtures, drab office-style art, and a dry-erase board, which the actors scribble on during scene changes to indicate the passing of days as an audit deadline looms.

The plot centers around that deadline. Too much story exposition would ruin a good second act surprise, and it would be difficult, in any case, to explain the intricacies of the action of the play without CPA certification. However, it was surprisingly easy to follow what was happening with the machinations and maneuvers that drove the plot -- a testament to the good writing, as well as the clear direction by Chip Egan, who allowed the actors to tell the story through their relationships with each other. The cast also had obvious command of their material.

The performances in the four-person cast were all good, though Blake White, as Southern schlub Paul, and Jim Stark, as sleazy Leo, were outstanding.

White's total physical control of his character throughout the play was masterful. He relished playing a sort of "Everydork," perhaps the most recognizable character in the bunch, the adorable but annoying, utterly eager to please mutt in a kennel full of pit bulls. His background in improvisational acting served him well, as his skills at listening to the other actors were remarkable.

Among the many references to hierarchy and status in the play are a few mentions of the way dogs mark territory, and Stark's Leo is, for a time, top dog in office rank, though, having not passed all of the tests in the CPA exam, his days are clearly numbered from the beginning. A sort of yuppie Iago, he overcompensates for his small stature and insecure career status with a sinister swagger and astonishingly creepy line readings. It's worth the price of admission to watch this guy flick a rubber band and hiss "super star." He locks on to his ever-changing targets with the tenacity of a never-say-die bully, yet his characterization is surprisingly vulnerable in the play's second act.

The thin veneers of Southern charm and religious conviction are stripped away fairly quickly to reveal real avarice and hypocrisy. "Yankee" Greg, played by Nick Newell, seems sweet enough, at first, but his church-going is revealed to be only a part of his Ambitious Young Man costume, not unlike his Brooks Brothers suit. He quickly shows an un-Baptist facility for sprinkling profanity into conversation and a fondness for Leo's gross stories. Greg is more chameleon than Christian, reducing his ostensible religious convictions to convenient, and, as it turns out, revealing aphorisms like, "God helps those who helps themselves."

Peggy Trecker plays Margaret, a steely, insincere party girl who more than holds her own in this bad boys' club. The character did not feel as fleshed out or as fully realized in some ways as the men's characters, yet another trait Rasheed's play has in common with Mamet's work.