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It's a roll-the-eyes and say "oh, please!" moment: The self-appointed savior who strides onto the stage, after 2 1/2 hours of nightmarish violence, manipulation, death and betrayal, and exhorts, "In God's name, cheerly on, courageous friends, to reap the harvest of perpetual peace by this one bloody trial of sharp war."
Oh, please! Of all the screwy justifications for war, a "harvest of perpetual peace" must be the most excruciating.
Shakespeare's "Richard III," when produced fearlessly, really is a nightmare. A few minutes after Mr. Savior has uttered his encouraging words he turns into an energetic butcher. Intiman Theatre artistic director Bartlett Sher's production of "Richard III" is a fearless as they come. The duel between Han Altwies (as the alleged savior) and Stephen Pelinski (as King Richard, master of violence, manipulation, death and betrayal) is truly horrifying -- due credit going to fight director J. Steven Burke.
As with any dream, Intiman's current nightmare offers rich possibilities for varied interpretations. "Richard" can be dismissed as only a dream in the form of grim and gaudy entertainment. It can be seen as a denunciation of corruption and violence. It can be interpreted as chastisement, rubbing the noses of irresponsible citizens in the filth of chicanery and war. The possibilities are innumerable.
What is indisputable is that Sher's "Richard" is a remarkable theatrical phenomenon. Setting and lighting designer Christopher Akerland's shadowy world of concrete blocks and steel scaffolding is as bleak as Shakespeare's poetry. Equally harsh are the underscoring drums pounded by Michael McQuilken and Kimo Muraki.
In the title role, Stephen Pelinski is a marvel of clear and expressive diction. He forges intricate verse into weapons ranging from stilettos to bludgeons. Two dozen supporting actors perform with the professional dedication that says, "This really matters." Like details in a nightmare, the performances have an insistent quality. Merriment is quickly quashed. Sinister movement and speech swell into terrifying incidents.
Experiencing a nightmare simultaneously with several hundred other people gives reassurance and distance. Even so, Sher's "Richard" is an ordeal -- an impressive ordeal, to be sure, but nonetheless unsettling.
"Richard III" runs at Intiman through July 15. Tickets: $27-$46, $20 15 minutes before curtain, 25 and under $10, discounts for students and groups; 206-269-1900 or www.intiman.org Intiman is in the Seattle Center.
'Wine in the Wilderness'
In this case, an outstanding performance rescues a mediocre play. The play is "Wine in the Wilderness," a 1969 television drama that is being staged by ACT Theatre. The save-the-play performer is April Yvette Thompson, who portrays Tommy -- a funny, poignant, sexy, sassy, streetwise black proletarian whose apartment is burned out during a 1964 Harlem riot.
Tommy (short for Tomorrow Marie) is taken in by three condescending members of what sociologist F. Franklin Frazier and civil rights activists Eldridge Cleaver and Stokely Carmichael referred to scathingly as the "black bourgeoisie."
As if to provide didactic examples of what Frazier referred to in his 1953 study "Black Bourgeoisie," playwright Alice Childress gives us Cynthia the social worker, Bill the painter and Sonny-Man the writer. Sonny and Cynthia find Tommy in a bar where all three are seeking sanctuary from street violence. Sonny and Cynthia think Tommy would be the perfect model for Bill's intended portrait of degraded black womanhood. And so they take her to Bill's studio.
Childress' writing gives Tommy rich particulars and details. Thompson invests herself in them fully and makes them pay off sensationally. Childress sometimes provides little lectures for Tommy to deliver, but at least Thompson delivers them with real dramatic verve. Anthony Leroy Fuller, as an elderly rascal, gets big effects from a tiny part. He is sometimes droll and bawdy, but achieves real pathos in a moment of remorse. And he never, ever lectures.
It is to director Valerie Curtis-Newton's credit that she gives Thompson and Fuller unlimited license to shine. They make her production worth seeing.
"Wine in the Wilderness" runs at ACT, 700 Union St., through July 9. Tickets: $10 (for 25 and under) to $54; 206-7676 or www.acttheatre.org
'Kuwait'
The main character in "Kuwait," a young Marine fighting in the 1991 Gulf War, pleads with a reporter, "Tell my story!"
He could make the same request of playwright Vincent Delaney. Delaney sets up a situation. He supplies four characters. He devises incidents. But I have no idea what "Kuwait" is really about.
A U.S. massacre of a group of Arab children? A combatant's remorse? Traumatic distress syndrome? The venality of American journalism? The mendacity of military information officers? Every scene in "Kuwait" amounts to a riddle.
As the Marine, David Hogan is sometimes rigidly all business. Sometimes he wavers between sentimental and sarcastic. And sometimes he is overwhelmed by panic and remorse. He captures a supposedly embedded reporter, Rachel (Kelly Hitchens), who unembeds herself and heads out into the desert to get a real story, a career maker, something sensational, an exclusive. Hitchens is mostly sarcastic and insulting, with brief timeouts for terror or compassion.
Terri Weagant as a gung-ho information officer and Rebecca Olson as a preposterous airhead reporter are ciphers. They supply sometimes implausible details (two reporters from one paper in the same place at the same time? Not likely).
There may be a powerful story lurking in the confusion and vagary of "Kuwait." But Delaney doesn't tell it.
"Kuwait" runs at Theater Schmeater, 1500 Summit Ave., through July 22. Tickets: $18, under 18 free; 206-325-6500 or www.schmeater.org
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