“The Elephant Man” kicks off New Rep’s 30th
Season. Appealing to both the audience’s curiosity and
a dreamer’s unfilled wishes for normality, “The Elephant Man” delivers on this
season’s theme of “dreams, dares, and discoveries.”
The stage is one of the simplest this reviewer has seen
at New Rep. With the exception of a
sliding wall made of mirrored glass, the rest of the stage is painted black,
with a single, multi-functional black box in the center. A solitary oboist (Louis Toth) adds a somber quality
to the setting and fits well with the reflective pace of the performance.
The simplicity of the design adds additional focus to the
heavy-handed mirror and illusion motif repeated throughout “The Elephant Man.” In an early example, John Merrick (Tim
Spears) impresses the actress Mrs. Kendall (Valerie Leonard) with his
description of Romeo and Juliet, particularly his belief that Romeo cannot be
in love with Juliet because he tests her life only by checking for her breath
in a mirror. He does not check her pulse
or have a doctor examine her body, suggesting the greatest test of life is the
reflection of that life, the impression a person makes upon their surroundings.
John Merrick inspires this self-reflection within the
good people of 1880’s London society, arousing their sense of Christian
generosity and validating their need for approval. The time period, often called the Gilded Age, perfectly
complements the characters’ desire to help and their expectation of
return. Characters reference King
Leopold, Jack the Ripper, workhouses, and asylums, but those are conveniently in
the background, while the moral superiority the cast derives from fulfilling
their Christian burden is intensely felt and immediately evident.
Though the characters of “The Elephant Man” are largely
flat, the actors do not lack passion in their roles. Dr. Frederick Treves (Michael Kaye) spends
the 2-act play mixing charity and authority, doling out small kindnesses with
the unmasked hope of greater recognition.
He delivers an emotional monologue at the end of Act II, and despite his
conflation of social acceptance and a cure for “the elephant man,” his
sentiment is obviously heartfelt. Spears’s
performance is exceptional. As he
undergoes his transition from side-show spectacle to perpetual patient, he
transforms in front of the audience from a diminutive man in a tattered shroud into
the elephant man. He contorts his face; he turns his palm
and holds his arm stiffly at his chest; he juts out his hip and turns in his
foot as he limps across the stage.
Suddenly he is the deformed man the doctor describes. The transformation is remarkable, and the
fact that the audience begins to forget Merrick and to only see the elephant man inspires reflection
long after the performance has ended.
-Victoria Petrosino, New Rep Reviewer