 | ||
 | ||
                                       |
|
 |
|
Mom, murder and media mayhem
Talk show-formatted brain-drainers like Jerry Springer, along with lurid reenactment "true crime" programs, revel in depravity and audience sloth like so many pigs in so much shit. And, perhaps unsurprisingly, they are some of the most popular television shows on the air. After Ashley gets a standing O from me simply because it takes on the culture of bottom feeding media with ferocious wit and heartfelt insight. The fact that it is a hilarious, well-acted, masterfully directed play on top of that puts it in contention for the label "modern classic." After Ashley is an after-school special as re-imagined by Denis Leary. (In point of fact, Mr. Leary has nothing to do with this play. That was just a simile.) The real credit for this twisted take on a fractured family owes its success to author Gina Gionfriddo and director Anthony Powell. Gionfriddo's finely drawn characters spout some of the most realistically funny dialogue I've heard in quite a while. Her plotting and pacing are excellent, and Powell, who gets the absolute most from his actors, realizes her work marvelously. Ashley Hammond (Angela Reed) is a dissatisfied wife but a loving mother. She's a failed artist pothead going through a "mid-life crisis" at 35. She shares a bond with her 14-year-old son, Justin (Tobias Segal), that is as strong as the one between her and her husband is weak. One hot summer day, Ashley is brutally murdered. Justin's frantic 911 call makes the rounds of tabloid news shows, and almost overnight he becomes known as the "911 kid." So, in addition to being a teenager mourning the death of his mother, Justin becomes a pseudo-celebrity of sorts, and with every mention in the media he becomes a little more cynical, a little more at right angles to the world. Matters only get worse when just a few years later Justin's father, Alden (Sam Gregory), publishes a book chronicling Ashley's life and death. The book—embellishments and all—becomes a bestseller, and Alden drags Justin back into a limelight he'd much rather avoid. A Maury Povich-esque crime show host, David Gavin (John G. Preston), with a smile that just begs to be kissed with a sledgehammer, takes Alden under his wing as a dirt TV protégé trading primarily in Ashley's memory. Justin's only solace comes in the form of Julie (Ruth Eglsaer), the only Goth chick in central Florida. With Julie's help, Justin pulls himself from his self destructive yet endlessly humorous depression long enough to attempt to save his mother's memory from further perversion at the hands of the Fourth Estate. As Justin, Tobias Segal blew me away. He absolutely nailed his portrayal of a world-weary teenager with a wicked sense of humor. He delivers every one of his acid-tongued quips with precision timing and is just as believable in the softer "mourning mom" moments. As I've come to expect over the past year or so, Ruth Eglsaer gave a first-rate performance as well. Sam Gregory's Alden starts as a conflicted Beltway dad and ends as a corrupted cad. Great work on his part. Reed, Preston and Ivers round things out, each to much-deserved applause. All of the action takes place in front of a wonderfully simple and effective set designed by Lisa M. Orzolek and skillfully lit by Charles R. MacLeod. I cannot recommend After Ashley highly enough. As social commentary-lite and as over-the-top comedy this play will keep you tuned in from beginning to end. CenterStage After Ashley plays at the Denver Center for the Performing Arts, 1245 Champa St., Denver, through June 3. Tickets are $29-$45, and discounts are available. For tickets or information, call 303-893-4100, or visit www.denvercenter.org. Respond: letters@boulderweekly.com |
Except for the odd episode of Deadliest Catch (because who
doesn't like to see a crew on the crab battle 30 footers while hauling pots of
keepers?), I hate reality TV. However, even reality TV Hell has its various
circles, each with its own unique brands of monstrosities. While the relative
heinousness of such dreck as American Idol, The Bachelor and Wife Swap may be
debated endlessly, I think it's safe to say that the spawn of Donahue inhabit
the dankest depths of Hades.
