IN THE WAKE OF THE WELDED
It seems we’ve come to expect less of theater than we used to. Like this woman, if we’re entertained, if we’re able to relate, then we don’t expect much more. We smile warmly at the gentle simplicity of Driving Miss Daisy or have a foot-stompin’ good time at Pump Boys and Dinettes and are content. But anyone who’s witnessed one of those few transcendent productions, the kind that dazzle, affecting us more profoundly than any book or film, spends a lot of time at the theater dissatisfied.
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Current River Theatre’s In the Wake of the Welded, by Jeffrey W. Mangrum, is in some ways a highly professional piece of work. It pushes all the right emotional buttons, and though it looks unfinished, it’s intelligently crafted, with well-developed characters; this production is professionally acted and directed. And yet the play lacks any spark of originality.
In the Wake of the Welded contains some beautiful moments. The scenes between the two sisters, their mother, and their mute father are especially well written. Mangrum’s dialogue is crisp and believable, and his scenes are tightly constructed. But something is missing. The play seems the second installment of a trilogy whose first and last parts we should know. Too much of the family’s past is unsatisfactorily explained, and the end is also unsatisfying, leaving a lot of questions up in the air.
Blasting Vivaldi or Albinoni’s Adagio or welding sound effects at top volume over these set changes does not make matters any better. I’d like to request a five-year moratorium on the theatrical use of Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons, Albinoni’s Adagio, Pachelbel’s Canon, and any piano piece by Satie. Please give this music a rest. It may be predictable theater, but we should at least have some unpredictable music.
