Going to St. Ives, the two-actress culture shock drama by Lee Blessing, can't help striking one as the perfection of a certain breed of meticulous, conflict-heavy political playwriting that, as far as I can tell, has become increasingly well-received in recent years.
This does not mean, however, that it is a perfect play. Where Blessing is most successful -- defining motives, fashioning monologues and filling out his characters' histories -- there is still a writing workshop aura to his efforts. Though Going to St. Ives lavishes attention on its protagonists' pasts, its characters are employed mostly as implements in a single-minded social and emotional here-and-now -- in which subtler theatrical artistry is either compromised or completely eliminated.
Just how single-minded this theatrical duet can be becomes perfectly evident in the Baltimore-Washington premiere of Going to St. Ives, currently on stage at the Everyman Theatre. Built around the strained confrontation between a world-renowned British opthamologist and the mother of third-world dictator, the show naturally provides the opportunity for tour-de-force acting while straying perilously close to the kind of post-colonial guilt that could murder any and all dramatic momentum.
Thankfully, director Juanita Rockwell has gravitated toward the most personal, even domestic edges of Blessing's script. Even at that, both she and her estimable -- though too frequently declamatory -- performers almost never achieve the closeness and humanity that could make Going to St. Ives memorable. Much of the blame naturally falls on the side of the playwright, as is usual with shows burdened by all-too-evident contrasts and forced naturalism. While such material might be best approached as the no-nonsense near-allegory that it is, the Everyman staging attempts a personable touch that reacts unstably with the urgency of Blessing's story, offering up two hours of alternately explosive and uninteresting theater.
At least in this demonstration Blessing seems most comfortable in a milieu that is equal parts trauma and intrigue. But it takes a fair portion of the first act to expose the full depth of anguish that afflicts Going to St. Ives' two protagonists, Dr. Cora Gage (Kimberly Schraf) and her wealthy African patient May N'Kame (Lynn Chavis). Suffering from headaches and vision defects, May flies into Britain for a laser surgery operation under Cora's care, but he first pays a teatime visit to the doctor's home in the wealthy English neighborhood of St. Ives. However, each woman also has contrived a private political mission -- which can only be realized through her counterpart's cooperation.
Cora is interested in obtaining the release of a few doctors imprisoned by the dictatorial regime led by her patient's son. No real ethical dilemma there. It is May's ulterior motive in seeking the respected doctor's aid that gives Blessing his overarching intellectual and moral direction. Distressed by the damage that her progeny has wrought on her home country, May wants to poison her once-beloved child. After this premise is set in place, Going to St. Ives trudges with incredible determination through a moral, emotional and personal geography composed largely of anecdotes and unseen characters.
This investment in back story calls for compelling narration, which both of Rockwell's performers deliver at key moments. Schraf's Cora, haunted simultaneously by her murdered son and distant husband, forms a picture of propriety cracking at every point, which allows the Everyman veteran to handily outdo her co-star in dramatic range. To handle a similarly challenging character, Chavis falls back on a stately calm that only falls away in the second act's final minutes. Nevertheless the slow lags during longer, calmer stretches and the early exposition of each act, slipping into dead space whenever Chavis and Schraf are not working at a harrowing pitch.
Handling that dead space is a task that falls as much to The Everyman's technical crew as to the actresses, whose improbably matched roles do not permit a true chemistry on stage. The production's blocking and lighting, on the whole, are admirably direct, establishing a nice contemplative groove during slower portions. Yet, the fact that the show's second act takes place on an outdoor garden terrace, arranged efficiently, albeit unconvincingly, by scenic designer Daniel Ettinger, exacerbates the imposing bulk of Blessing's chain of events.
Maybe it's the fact that Going to St. Ives is not quite a stand-alone piece, but the female follow-up to an earlier Blessing work, A Walk in the Woods, that makes it ultimately underwhelming. Or maybe it's the Arthur Miller aftertaste of schematized conflict and overbearing comparison that Rockwell's competent direction never expunges. Tangents and allusions find only the most uneasy place in the imposing framework of crossing motives that makes up Going to St. Ives, even though the show's title refers to a quirky old nursery rhyme. Strong personalities and strong characterizations do not always translate into strong theater.
Going to St. Ives will be showing at the Everyman Theatre through February 25. For more information, visit http://www.everymantheatre.org or contact the box office at (410) 752-2208.
