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Editor's Notes | Acknowledgements | REVIEWS
Chris
Jones (Chicago Tribune) | Hedy Weiss (Chicago
Sun-Times)
Albert Williams (Chicago Reader)
Mary Shen Barnidge (Windy City Times) | Virginia
Gerst (Evanston Review)
Elementary, my dear Watson (but also complex)
June 25, 2003
BY HEDY WEISS Theater Critic
The Chicago Sun-Times
Hail Victoria! And, while you're at it, a great doffing of the hat
to Mr.
Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson and all those involved in the utterly
bracing, altogether pip-pip new Apple Tree production of "The Sign
of the
Four," Arthur Conan Doyle's wicked tale of empire and empirical
knowledge,
ace criminal sleuthing and old-fashioned romance.
This sharp, sophisticated, highly intelligent world premiere stage
adaptation, which brings the theater's 20th anniversary season to a close
with a grand flourish of Victorian values and exotic globalism, is the
work
of Shanghai Low Theatricals, a triad of Chicago-bred talents (Steve
Pickering, Charlie Athanas and Kevin Theis) who have joined forces to
develop dramatic work inspired by worldwide popular culture. And while
some
of the views in this classic early Holmes mystery are decidedly retro,
you
certainly can't fault it for being inbred.
The characters, of course, include two deeply eccentric, subtly competitive
British bachelors: the cocaine-addicted, misogynistic detective Holmes
(Michael Grant, all crisp energy, cutting tongue and meticulous perversity),
whose steel trap of a brain is a mind-boggling thing to behold in action,
and the more empathetic surgeon, Dr. Watson (Joe Forbrich, in a lovely
switch from his usual villain role, suggesting a man in rueful middle-aged
self-mockery), who moonlights as a writer and whose psychological insights
give heart to his companion's keen analysis.
But along for the ride--and a tale that spans decades and continents--are
brash street urchins, genteel housekeepers and a very independent-minded
governess, old army veterans, working-class carriage drivers and several
nut-cases, plus Punjab revolutionaries and the despot they loathe, and
a
Sumatran native as fleet as a cat.
The story is about an ill-gotten treasure that arrives in the form of
one
pearl per year delivered to Mary Morstan (Kate Martin, appealingly smart,
worldly and unsentimental), the grown daughter of a strangely deceased
officer in the British army in India--and the young woman who becomes
the
object of Watson's affection. In seeking the murderers and mystery behind
the pearls, and a potentially greater legacy, we are led into a world
that
is a complexly interconnected village, rich in subcultures and intrigue.
And
the adaptation--paired with Picker-ing's playful, often surprising and
strongly impassioned direction--works like a charm, with the tension
and
complexity of the plot sometimes embodied in nothing more than a silly
chase
up patently fake stairs. Though not a big mystery fan, I was not only
fully
engaged here, but followed step-by-step all the way to the thrillingly
laid
out denouement. The reason? This is a play about human behavior--fierce
loyalties and betrayals and greed--rather than clues and plot twists.
It is
more Dickensian than forensic.
The show also provides its supporting actors with many memorable characters
to play, including the inept Inspector Jones (a neat comic turn by Bill
McGough); a whole gamut of distinctively different housekeepers (delicious
work by the wonderfully morph-able Linda Kimbrough), and a terrific gallery
of types--raggedy London street kid, mystical hypochondriac and corrupt
soldier--all shaped with great style by Tom Bateman. Ronald Jiu, Jason
Ball,
Parvesh Cheena and Anish Jethmalani also add spice.
And then there is Larry Neu-mann Jr., an actor in a class by himself.
Neumann (who earlier this year starred as Dr. Larch in "The Cider
House
Rules") is the drama's linchpin. He appears pale, thin, bearded
and strapped
to a peg leg, and casts an immensely powerful and convincing spell as
he
tells a crucial story. A true magician, Neumann can make time stream
backward.
Jacqueline and Richard Penrod's set of wheeled parts is low-budget,
high-effect mock-Victorian, with properly gloomy lighting by Peter Gottlieb
and period costumes by Patti Roeder.
Last year, Apple Tree staged a radiant version of Tom Stoppard's "Indian
Ink," also a tale in the British-in-India tradition, and a big success. "The
Sign of Four"--clearly the work of a writer of an earlier century--serves
as
a dashing prequel to that drama. It's a very tasty curry indeed.
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