Stuck in the Middle With Them
Loneliness is my sweet spot; I cant get enough of things that limn the depths of desperate solitude. The list of really great treatments of lonely people is a surprisingly long one (Ill name them for you some other day), but Will Enos Middletown is not among them.
The problem with the quiet souls of Middletown, most of whom are alone, is that none of them seem particularly affected by their loneliness. Its not on their skins like a film, as it is for Parker Posey in the film Broken English; it doesnt weigh them down as it does in Mrs. Parker and the Vicious Circle; or make you feel lonely, too, like Edward Hoppers paintings. (Guess Im giving you that list today, after all.) Instead, they all smile and chat and go about their lives while reiterating that there are only two constants in life: birth and death.
Seriously, Eno has his characters say that a lot. Death is a constant, from the sudden attack on a drug-addled mechanic by a cop at the top of the show to a librarian, thrilled that someone has come in to register for a library card, chirping, Good for you, dear. I think a lot of people figure, Why bother? Im just going to die, anyway. Except no one seems particularly affected by the constant reminders that death is just around the corner.
Even the suicidal handyman, John Dodge (Linus Roache), is apologetic that he slit his wrists in a bid for attention. The nurses cant get over how sweet he is; were just bored by his low-key apologies. In fact, Middletown is one of the more boring plays in recent memory. Nothing much happens (though youd better believe were treated to a birth and a death, just to drive the point home), and what does happen has been treated by director Ken Rus Schmoll as negligible.
Worse, what starts off as an off-kilter look at a small town where danger lurks turns into pure fantasy at the end of the first act. Just before intermission, the lights come up and a row of theater chairs filled with patrons is rolled onto stage, where the performers begin discussing what we have just seen. This shoves the whole enterprise straight into fantasy; when was the last time you sat next to someone at a play who not only didnt actively piss you off, but seemed interesting enough to talk about what youve just seen? And their comments are exactly what youd expect to hear from a stranger sitting beside you, forcing you to listen to their eager opinions when all you want to do is skim your Playbill to see who lists Law & Order or Gossip Girl in their bios.
The actors certainly cant be blamed. Michael Park, busy as a bee since the demise of As the World Turns, is a gruff, sometimes menacing cop; Heather Burns is a sweet rag doll as new Middletown citizen Mrs. Swanson, whose husband is never seen but who is nevertheless a constant presence. And then theres Georgia Engel as the librarian, plying her slightly daffy sitcom presence; David Garrison as a talky public speaker and a harried doctor; James McMenamin as the loneliest character of all (and the least believable), the mechanic who dumpster-dives at the hospital for lost pills; and six other actors as various Middletonians and tourists. They all have flashes of recognizable humanity, but the flashes are all small moments that never add up to something larger. Middletown, it turns out, is the rare place where it might be more interesting to live than to visit.
Middletown, through Dec. 5, Vineyard Theatre, 108 E. 15th St. (betw. Irving Pl. & Union Sq. East), 212-353-0303; $65.