"Utterly tremendous!"
-Trav S.D.
Actor, Playwright, Author, and Critic
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"By any measure...a triumph. [T]his bona fide tour de force of theatre...has the real capacity to tug at something inside of us and make us feel in a raw, spontaneous, and very essential way. Bravo."
-More-
"By any measure...a triumph. Billed as a live silent film for the stage, that's precisely what it is: a faithful, loving recreation of an art that already seems ancient...
The folks at Stolen Chair tell the story with economy and affection in about ninety minutes. All of the accoutrements of the silent film are here: A dark translucent scrim stands between actors and audience, giving all the action a grainy sepia look that's spot-on. Titles—on transparent cards; there's no high-tech PowerPoint presentation here to jostle us into the 21st century—are projected on the scrim, providing narration and dialogue as required. (They're written by scenarist Kiran Rikhye, who has done a skillful job.) A live soundtrack is played by pianist Emily Otto, stationed just to the front left of the screen; next to her, Aviva Meyer takes care of the sound effects. From somewhere in the back of the theatre is a sound of a film projector—a really lovely touch.
The action, delivered (astonishingly!) by just six actors, is performed in the heightened expressive style of silent movies. The performances are splendidly stylized. Director Jon Stancato maintains consistency of tone, pace, and approach throughout with remarkable acuity. Jennifer Wren, as Dea, is the standout: in her long blonde curls, she's channeling Gish and Pickford in a portrayal of pure and unfettered innocence that comments on itself without seeming reflexive or ironical...
Jon Cambpell, as Gwynplaine, is nearly as impressive, in a wrenching performance of the tragic hero...this is a fearless and dedicated actor sacrificing for his art.
Alexia Vernon is suitably malevolent as the Duchess, while Cameron Oro is, until the final scenes, mostly comic relief as her languid lover Lord Dirry Moir. Rounding out the company are Dennis Wit, invaluable as Ursus, and Ariana Seigel as the young Gwynplaine. One of the many amazing things that Stancato and his collaborators accomplish is the illusion of crowds and minor characters, bolstering the scenario though always unseen.
Otto's accompaniment, which (she confided in a talkback after the performance) is mostly improvised, feels entirely authentic. The sound effects are used sparingly, and provide some neat surprises.
But nothing surprised me more than the fact that, not only was I bowled over by the precision and commitment that brought together this bona fide tour de force of theatre, but also that I enjoyed it so much on its own terms. The journey back in time that we take in The Man Who Laughs is neither academic exercise or gimmicky theme park ride—it's a genuine immersion in a kind of storytelling that, for all its apparent hokeyness and naiveté, has the real capacity to tug at something inside of us and make us feel in a raw, spontaneous, and very essential way. Bravo."
-Martin Denton
NYtheatre.com
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"[It] works, and it works to convey an interesting and captivating story. It reminded me that theatre can be fun."
-James Comtois, Top 10 Shows of 2005
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Interview: Director Jon Stancato, w/NYtheatre.com's Rochelle Denton on style vs. story in Stolen Chair's work.