Steppenwolf co-founder Jeff Perry masterful in revival of classic 'No Man's Land'
“No Man's Land” - ★ ★ ★ ½
Jeff Perry suggests audiences approach Steppenwolf Theatre's fine revival of Harold Pinter's “No Man's Land” as if it were a musical composition.
“Don't expect anyone else to take it in the way you do,” said the Highland Park native and Steppenwolf co-founder. “Take it in and see what it does to your insides.”
Don't worry about what it's supposed to mean, he said of the Nobel Laureate's inscrutable 1975 drama, “it means what it means to you.”
Typical of the seminal 20th century dramatist who described his plays as “the weasel under the cocktail cabinet,” the style is absurdist. The mood is menacing, the humor wry, the writing concise. And the plot is minimal.
The action unfolds at the home of prominent writer Hirst (Perry) during extended, alcohol-fueled encounters between him, self-described poet Spooner (Mark Ulrich) and Hirst's domestics - Briggs and Foster played with unwavering intensity by Jon Hudson Odom and Samuel Roukin.
We meet Spooner and Hirst, who appear to be in their late 60s or early 70s, at Hirst's home. They may be old college friends. Or they could have met for the first time earlier that evening at a London pub where Spooner possibly works as a barback. Maybe they seduced each other's wives. Maybe they didn't.
“You found me on the last lap of a race I had long forgotten to run,” confesses Perry's weary Hirst, whose inebriated declaration suggests deep-seated despair.
“A metaphor, things are looking up,” responds Ulrich's Spooner, a cagey drunkard who spends most of the play ingratiating himself to his host.
While Spooner and Hirst supply the comedy, their younger counterparts - thuggish thirtysomethings Briggs (Odom) and Foster (Roukin) - provide the menace. They may be Hirst's captors. They may be his employees. They may be opportunists preying on a drunk, who believe Spooner is a usurper determined to replace them. Director Les Waters often places them at opposite sides of the stage. There they sit, watchful and wary, an unsettling presence despite their distance.
Like Spooner, they're working an angle. So is Hirst, who needs a servant to uncork champagne and scramble eggs. Neither he nor Spooner knows when to say when. But Hirst's problems seem to go beyond alcohol. His confusion (he addresses a wall at one point), his struggle with memory (a recurring theme) suggest dementia, which puts him at a disadvantage when it comes to the power struggles that animate the play.
These men wield power through their stories - the dreams, recollections and outright fabrications that Spooner uses to self-aggrandize and Briggs and Foster use to intimidate. The power grab is evidenced by the indirect barbs and subtle threats the younger men direct at Spooner and by Spooner's attempts to insinuate himself into Hirst's world. Hirst is in the middle (literally), caught in a tug-of-war between opposing forces Briggs and Spooner.
All four characters inhabit the titular no man's land, a liminal space (easy to access, impossible to escape) where none of them seem to belong, not even Hirst, in whose well-appointed living room the action takes place. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves and a well-stocked bar dominate Andrew Boyce's handsome, albeit austere, set which is gracefully lit by Yi Zhao. There are no knickknacks. Possibly Hirst dislikes clutter. Possibly someone pilfered his property.
Waters' sure-handed staging is characterized by a judicious use of Pinter pauses and a keen comedic sensibility. His production also boasts some impressive acting, beginning with Odom and Roukin's coiled, calculating supporting performances as Hirst's self-styled protectors.
For Perry, Steppenwolf's production marked a long-awaited reunion with fellow ensemble member Austin Pendleton, who was to play Spooner. During previews, Pendleton left the production for personal reasons and Ulrich, his understudy, took over.
Ulrich is marvelous as Spooner. A garrulous, seemingly deferential fellow dressed in a frumpy, oversize suit, he's easily dismissed. But Ulrich's quiet cunning suggests Spooner may pose the biggest threat. Or maybe he doesn't. Maybe he's just a literature fan eager for a nightcap.
Either way, Ulrich is a worthy scene partner for Perry, whose expertly limned, impeccably timed performance suggests a profoundly unhappy man crawled into a bottle and intends to stay there. Or maybe he's just a writer on a bender.
Location: Steppenwolf Theatre, 1650 N. Halsted St., Chicago, (312) 335-1650, steppenwolf.org
Showtimes: 8 p.m. Tuesday through Friday; 3 and 8 p.m. Saturday; 3 p.m. Sunday, through Aug. 20. Also, 2:30 p.m. Aug. 9. No 8 p.m. performance Aug. 9
Running time: About 2 hours, with intermission
Tickets: $20-$98
Parking: $15 in the Steppenwolf parking lot; limited street parking
Rating: For adults, includes strong language, mature themes
COVID-19 precautions: Masks optional