"The Sinker," a new play by Jami Brandli, produced by Hot City Theatre, opened its premiere run at the Kranzberg Arts Center last night. The young playwright made an unfortunate choice of title, though the play does involve someone who is unable to swim. A really mean critic easily could have chortled, "Little Billy wasn't the only thing to sink in St. Louis last night."
Playwrights don't think the way critics do. After all, a few decades ago, David Mamet wrote a real sinker called, "The Lone Canoe," and opened it, believe it or not, at a critics' convention.
Brandli has a good ear for dialogue, does nice work building tension. She has a great difficulty reaching a credible conclusion, but even Shakespeare had that type of problem. She got no help, however, from whoever made the decision to cast Erica Feldman as Candi (short for Candace). Feldman looks right for the part. She's young, and pretty, with a smoldering sexuality, and she utters believable lies. But she is asked to smoke cigarettes, and Brandli considers the act important. However, it's obvious from the start that Feldman doesn't smoke. She's almost afraid of the act, she's not comfortable lighting up and she takes small, shallow drags, releasing the smoke from her mouth without inhaling it into her lungs. A veteran smoker will drag deeply, then exhale with an almost-orgasmic delight.
I am certainly not suggesting Feldman become a smoker just to get the part, but director Annamaria Pileggi usually is extremely cognizant of details, and as a 50-year smoker who has been clean more than 15 years, I never found the character to ring true.
We're in New England, in the midst of a blizzard ("nor'easter," corrects Rusty Gunther, as George), just a step away from "It was a dark and stormy night." Jason, an author who just sold his first novel and was the guest of honor at a party of friends the previous night, has, claims Candi, gone for lattes after apparently spending the night with her. Then George shows up, a charming creation by Brandli. He's a radio weather reporter–"I save lives with my broadcasts"–he insists with the dedication of a staffer on the Weather Channel, and while Gunther lacks the requisite dulcet tones, he has all the proper self-importance. He's a delightful spoof, and Brandli develops him very nicely.
George has some secrets, and we discover we're in living quarters shared by him and Jason. It the kitchen and dining room, I think, though Sean Savoie's set looks more like a highway roadhouse. Liz, played by Aarya Sara Locker enters last, also having spent the night. She's Jason's agent and editor, and she, like Candi, is wearing orange socks that apparently came from his drawer. It would be interesting to learn if the socks were loaned or given, and whether the presentation was made before or after, jointly or separately. Locker worked hard, but never seemed to inhabit the character the way she should have.
In some respects, Jason was a far more interesting character than then ones we met, but he never arrives. Maybe he's in a snow drift. Maybe's he's still waiting to be served. Sounds like the play, which will run through May 22, might be described as a case of too little, too latte.
"The Sinker," a production of Hot City Theatre at the Kranzberg Art Center, through May 22.
–Joe