Philip Boehm's little Upstream Theater produces more mature and thought-provoking plays than any theater in St. Louis, and he's at it again right now, with "Helver's Night," the American premiere of a drama by Polish writer Ingmar Villqist. It will charm and terrify through Sunday at the small black box Kranzberg Theatre at Grand and Olive, an intersection that for decades was the arts and entertainment center of St. Louis.
In truth, everything that Upstream stages is designed to ask questions, to challenge theater-goers. Even productions that don't work completely bring meaningful, intelligent moments. Boehm also translated this play from its original Polish, then directed and brought remarkable work from Linda Kennedy and Christopher Harris, who are amazing through the 80-minute drama, which plays without intermission.
We're in an unnamed city in an unnamed country that is teetering on the edge of some sort of revolt. Voices come from the street, indistinguishable but threatening. Scott C. Neale's set, a little disjointed and shabby, warns of instability. Kennedy, waiting for something or someone, responds to a coded knock on the door, opening it just wide enough for Harris to enter, closing it quickly behind him.
Enter Helver, a moving and disquieting performance by Harris. He's large and bulky, and something about him is not quite right. He flies from heights of exuberant enthusiasm to depths of misery. He's what we call a special-needs person in the euphemism-filled lingo of today; Karla (Kennedy) calls him an imbecile, but just once, because a period of being institutionalized has left him with bad memories of the word. Karla once had a child of similar state that she gave up to please her husband, and she has taken in Helver.
But tonight – Helver's night – is different. He enters filled with enthusiasm because his hero, Gilbert, has given him a beret, and a badge, and a flag with an emblem that is close to a swastika, has complimented him on his boots, "shiny as a dog's balls," and showed him what "patriots" do to "carcasses," and impressed upon him the necessity for "order." Helver shows Karla about calisthenics, and living in a tent, and while he frightens her, she understands that his attention span is so brief that he will soon turn to his toy soldiers and another activity which, of course, he does.
Harris and Kennedy play so well, and so comfortably together that it is as if their relationship had been in existence for many years. Interestingly, while Harris is white and Kennedy African-American, the difference soon is ignored, then forgotten because one is conscious of the characters' actions and words, and not of the color of their skin.
Karla realizes what soon will happen to Helver and that she must help him escape. When carefully taught instructions on how to find the railway station and where to leave the train and what to do next are ineffective, not because of Helver's shortcomings but because outside is not safe and he is immediate danger, she takes another tack.
Harris and Kennedy are brilliant, together and separately. Given his mental state, he breezes through a world where alternating joy and misery are constant companions, and he shows both in riveting manner. She has had a difficult, enervating life, driven by her experiences with her child to find another with whom to provide the suffering she must have. It's an understated performance, but a superb one.
Joseph W. Clapper's lighting design keeps tension mounting as does the sound design by Boehm and Dylan Jones. "Helver's Night" is a dramatic, important statement and an example of wonderful acting.
"Helver's Night" by the Upstream Theater, Thursday-Sunday at the Kranzberg Center.
–Joe