Walter Versus the Water Authority by Paula D'Alessandris
A priest, a minister and a rabbi walk into… the basement of a rectory? Well, they can’t all be winners. But in On the Eighth Day…, there is nothing but losers. Currently running in repertory with Walter Versus the Water Authority, On the Eighth Day… opens with that misguided moment and then purports to examine the nature of faith after priest David (Adam Sentoni) tells minister Cara (Amy Albert) and rabbi Malcolm (Richard Binder) that he’s decided to leave the priesthood. Cara and Malcolm are suitably shocked, both because they’re upset for their unemployed friend and because David’s repeated insistence that God doesn’t exist is a slap in their faces.
But as written by Geoffrey Scheer (who also provides the dismal direction), David is whining, self-absorbed and as vicious as a ruler-wielding nun. He started the interfaith coalition with Cara and Malcolm not to further the dialogue about faith, but to win brownie points with God. After his announcement over cocktails in that basement rectory (which comes surprisingly well-stocked with top shelf booze), he immediately goes on the defensive, lashing out at Cara and Malcolm with almost demonic intensity. Without a single reason to like David, caring about his loss of faith and the brave new world he faces as an atheist is impossible. And caring about Cara or Malcolm is almost as hard thanks to Scheer’s misguided direction, which sweats to make the black-box theater work, with characters parading back and forth in ever-changing formations or striking unconvincing poses that only allow two-thirds of the audience to see the actor’s face. When the talented Albert delivers Cara’s monologue about finding God again as a lesbian, she’s completely betrayed by the staging. Posed upstage as if she were delivering a sermon instead of sharing a painful, beatific moment of truth with two of her friends, the moment, like the rest of the play, rings hollow and flat.
Benjamin T. Scott’s Walter Versus the Water Authority rates slightly higher than On the Eighth Day… if only because there’s an actual—albeit flimsy—plot. Walter (Ron McClary) doesn’t want the government to force him to hook up to the county water supply instead of drinking the free well water he’s always had. As someone who’s tasted a lot of well water in his life, I can attest that one doesn’t cling to it out of some stubborn preference. And sure enough, we quickly learn that Walter and his wife (Jenny Burleson) have been touched by tragedy, involving their blond son (Cody Neeb) and the Iraq war. Walter doesn’t want to give one thing more to the U.S. government, even the possibly toxic well water that he and his wife drink. And no one, not his neighbor (C.K. Allen, tripping over his lines), not the sheriff (Greg Skura), and certainly not the water company’s representative (Abeo Miller) are going to convince him otherwise.
Director Paula D’Alessandris elicits disappointingly lackluster performances from the entire cast, none of who find any depth or substance in their cardboard roles and all of whom oscillate between two emotions. McClary called dibs on rage and sadness, Burleson snagged bemused and defiant and the rest split fear of Walter along with whatever else felt appropriate to their character. The hole in the center of the play is Walter, taking his manly grief out on people who want to save the community from toxic water—it seems a bit much. Having a hissy fit because the government wants you to pay for cleaner water like the rest of the country lacks the gravitas of, say, fighting to keep your land out of the hands of freeway builders.
>On the Eighth Day…
Through Aug. 22.
>Walter Versus the Water Authority
Through Aug. 23, both at 59E59 Theaters, 59 E. 59th St. (betw. Park & Madison Aves.), 212-279-4200; times vary $18.
But as written by Geoffrey Scheer (who also provides the dismal direction), David is whining, self-absorbed and as vicious as a ruler-wielding nun. He started the interfaith coalition with Cara and Malcolm not to further the dialogue about faith, but to win brownie points with God. After his announcement over cocktails in that basement rectory (which comes surprisingly well-stocked with top shelf booze), he immediately goes on the defensive, lashing out at Cara and Malcolm with almost demonic intensity. Without a single reason to like David, caring about his loss of faith and the brave new world he faces as an atheist is impossible. And caring about Cara or Malcolm is almost as hard thanks to Scheer’s misguided direction, which sweats to make the black-box theater work, with characters parading back and forth in ever-changing formations or striking unconvincing poses that only allow two-thirds of the audience to see the actor’s face. When the talented Albert delivers Cara’s monologue about finding God again as a lesbian, she’s completely betrayed by the staging. Posed upstage as if she were delivering a sermon instead of sharing a painful, beatific moment of truth with two of her friends, the moment, like the rest of the play, rings hollow and flat.
Benjamin T. Scott’s Walter Versus the Water Authority rates slightly higher than On the Eighth Day… if only because there’s an actual—albeit flimsy—plot. Walter (Ron McClary) doesn’t want the government to force him to hook up to the county water supply instead of drinking the free well water he’s always had. As someone who’s tasted a lot of well water in his life, I can attest that one doesn’t cling to it out of some stubborn preference. And sure enough, we quickly learn that Walter and his wife (Jenny Burleson) have been touched by tragedy, involving their blond son (Cody Neeb) and the Iraq war. Walter doesn’t want to give one thing more to the U.S. government, even the possibly toxic well water that he and his wife drink. And no one, not his neighbor (C.K. Allen, tripping over his lines), not the sheriff (Greg Skura), and certainly not the water company’s representative (Abeo Miller) are going to convince him otherwise.
Director Paula D’Alessandris elicits disappointingly lackluster performances from the entire cast, none of who find any depth or substance in their cardboard roles and all of whom oscillate between two emotions. McClary called dibs on rage and sadness, Burleson snagged bemused and defiant and the rest split fear of Walter along with whatever else felt appropriate to their character. The hole in the center of the play is Walter, taking his manly grief out on people who want to save the community from toxic water—it seems a bit much. Having a hissy fit because the government wants you to pay for cleaner water like the rest of the country lacks the gravitas of, say, fighting to keep your land out of the hands of freeway builders.
>On the Eighth Day…
Through Aug. 22.
>Walter Versus the Water Authority
Through Aug. 23, both at 59E59 Theaters, 59 E. 59th St. (betw. Park & Madison Aves.), 212-279-4200; times vary $18.
