By Maurizio Giammarco
Philly Theatre Review
Link To Philly Theatre Review Online
When asked about the response he would like to see from the audience regarding his play Perfection Unspeakable, Tom Minter
replied that he would hope the members would enter the world of his drama with an adventurous, inquisitive spirit, one that would
prompt still more questions afterward to those raised by his probing, provocative work. As noted by the author in the playbill,
"Though written in 1996, Perfection Unspeakable has not been produced or performed beyond a workshop presentation in both
London and Philadelphia....[T]his production...[examines] the difficult exploration of worlds of sound, and silence, light and dark."
Indeed, for Perfection Unspeakable is a play that offers its audience a series of dynamic antinomies: The relationship between the
mortal and the eternal; between the contemplation of philosophical ideas and their realization in human action; between the
immediacy of a specific moment in time and the wonder of timelessness; between the notion of predestination and free will, and the
role chance plays in the decisions and actions of individuals. Minter's play treats these thematic issues (and others) with
intelligence, wit, and purposeful action, and by doing so prevents the evening from devolving merely into a long disquisition of
these ideas. Most---and best---of all, it's good, inventive theater.
Briefly, the play centers on two Angels who appear on opposite sides of the stage, and who are dressed in the attire resembling
cardinals from the Roman Catholic Church. Familiar with each other, the angels acknowledge one another, not with words, though,
but with sign language. But in another revealing twist, the audience hears voices attributed to the two Angels through speakers
placed overhead (the voices are not only slightly distorted but also female, which adds another dimension). Thus, Minter quickly
establishes at the outset the relationship between sound and silence (and their respective forms of communication) that will inform
the play. The Angels resume a seemingly endless debate between them about the nature of man, and to the question of how much
are his actions determined and how much they are the product of free will, and to the role chance plays in such decisions.
Toward this end, they agree to a "game," in which they will literally and metaphysically play with the destinies of a group of
individuals on earth. Like master puppeteers, then, they bring to life the silent, immobile characters who are either seated or lying
before them, hidden under white sheets, which are then removed. These characters are dressed in the style of the 1940s, and the
story they are to enact---solving a murder, a disgraced cop kicked off the force, an extramarital affair---is the stuff of countless
crime dramas in both TV and film. Once these characters receive the breath of life from the two sparring Angels, the action begins,
and soon unfolds on two levels: Between the immediate concerns voiced by the earthbound characters with those who watch over
them.
This intriguing opening introduces the foundation upon which Perfection Unspeakable will build and develop its action, and
underscores the challenges for both cast and crew in this production. Director David Garone speaks of this challenge in the playbill
when he writes that when he was "first presented with...Perfection Unspeakable, I was intrigued by the fact that this play has an
opportunity for deaf actors, voiced actors, actors whose only communication comes from movement, and that all three of [them]
have to interact simultaneously. I had concerns about the coordination between the Angels, who sign their entire dialogue, as well
as the voiced actors who are the 'chess pieces' in the Angels' debate. How do you keep an actor who plays three characters at
once, in some cases, in step with the emotional choices of his scene partners when he cannot hear? How do you have actors
aware of the fact that they have to set a rhythm with the dialogue, yet still be available for the emotional connection with what they
are saying?"
Needless to say, these challenges are considerable, but both cast and crew succeeded impressively in overcoming them. One
might think, for instance, that by watching the two Angels (performed by deaf actors) silently act out the actions already being
performed by the voiced actors would lead to a needless "doubling" of energy and expression, making the proceedings repetitive
and undramatic to watch. Instead, the opposite becomes true: The Angels' silent mirroring of the mortals' often explosive behavior
accentuates the real and palpable suffering of the individuals who are limited by the knowledge of their own experiences and by the
audience's own awareness of the limitation and fallibility of human nature itself.
Perfection Unspeakable is divided into two acts, in which scenes take place between specific, earthbound locations as "a
warehouse office," "a small bar," and "a jail cell," with those that occur on "the ethereal plane" inhabited by the two Angels, and
where they debate their respective philosophical points of view. At key moments in the play, when the restless, volatile mortals
confront each other over questions of fidelity, loyalty, duty, betrayal, and love, the Angels descend from their cosmic perch to
articulate all the more vividly the passions of the individuals. In the playbill, listed next to all the earthbound settings are specific
times, such as 8 a.m., 7 p.m., and 12:30 p.m. On one level, these temporal markers anchor the chronological movement of the
story. But on another, symbolic, level, they serve to remind the audience of the co-existence between a moment in time and the
continuum of time itself, and how such stories of misery (and, occasionally, redemption, in the opinion of the playwright) have
existed throughout human history.
This idea is reinforced by a series of video images which are projected against a white backdrop, and which appear at certain
moments throughout the play. Some of these images feature characters whom the audience will soon see on stage, as well as
those who have already appeared, while other images show the lure of money, for instance, to indicate greed, or the treachery and
violence perpetrated by man, as well as woman, upon each other. The use of these images, although interesting as an idea, isn't
as effective as one might think, and on several occasions these images detract from rather than enhance the immediate action
taking place on stage.
Also, one might ask why Minter relies upon a plot that has formed the basis of countless crime dramas of the 1940s and 50s (and
even today). Several possibilities exist, but one strong suggestion is that the crime drama, at its core, is a tawdry morality play, in
which the forces of good are pitted against those of evil. And this idea works well within the larger concentric circle of the cosmic
narrative, in which this issue, among others, is debated on a grand scale by the two Angels. At the same time, though, the play is,
occasionally, uncertain about how to treat such a conventional plot. Sometimes, the author adopts a parodic tone toward the action
and the dialogue, while at other times he assumes a more straightforward approach. The result, then, is an inconsistent tone.
Recognizing that the audience would be all too familiar with the formula conventions of his crime drama, Minter injects two
interesting elements that enliven the storyline. He features a woman, a prostitute, named Mourette. Throughout the play she
remains dressed in what appears to be Elizabethan attire, interacting with several characters, namely, two detectives, and a third, a
Mephistophilian figure who has control over her fate (and that of several others). Like the two Angels, she is silent throughout the
play, until the very end, when she speaks and exhibits the anguish of her character. She represents woman as temptress, one who
has existed from time immemorial, much like the Mephistophilian character. But in this particular instance, Mourette, who is mostly a
sympathetic figure, ultimately wants to have control over her destiny, even if it brings about tragic consequences. The denouement
to the crime drama also brings about other revelations as well, for both the mortals and the Angels, and to the issues raised in the
play.
Despite the small playing area at the Adrienne, director David Garone utilized the space both economically and efficiently, bringing
style, grace, and clarity to the production; he created a swift, seamless flow of action, in which the actual set-ups and breakdowns
of settings and scenes were always made visible to the audience in the tradition of Brechtian theater.
As for the acting, the ensemble work was polished and engaging. In particular, Mike Canfield (as Angel 1) and Robert DeMayo (as
Angel 2) were superb, the former exhibiting a warm, empathic quality regarding his character while the latter displayed a tart,
elegant quality. Both actors complemented each other beautifully, their repartee a model of timing and responsiveness.
Through silence and physical movement, Kali Lela Colton as Mourette offered a fine portrayal of a woman at the mercy of men for
much too long and who desperately seeks to find a way of breaking free. Rob Hargraves created a smooth, malevolent figure of
Mephistophilian proportions, wielding his power over various characters in the sordid crime drama while engaged in an eternal
struggle with the Angels above him. And Susan Fowler, as Carol, the wife of the disgraced cop Gabriel, who has an affair with
Gabriel's superior more out of loneliness than lust, was affecting.
Like the drama itself, the title of the play, Perfection Unspeakable, operates on several levels as well, and author Minter hopes that
after audience members see his absorbing work, and begin to discuss it, that they will bring the same inquisitive spirit to
understanding the meaning and implications of that title---for both Angel and man.
Perfection Unspeakable runs thru October 23 at the Adrienne Theatre, 2030 Sansom Street, Philadelphia. For more information
visit www.perfectionunspeakable.com
