Jill's PLAF Diary for Friday, August 31

Performance: Gatz (Part Two) (Elevator Repair Service) (Future performances)

As I write this, I realize have spent more time in the last twenty-four hours sitting in theatres than I have in bed. And so begins the Festival. And it is good.

Gatz
As promised yesterday, this is actually going to be about Elevator Repair Service's Gatz in its entirety, even though I saw half of it on Thursday night. I'd planned on writing this diary in two parts, but I found that it would have been exactly like writing a review of the first act of a traditional play – not only unfair, but unsatisfying.

To begin with, I should make it clear that Gatz is not a show for everybody. First of all: you can't be one of those people who hated Fitzgerald in high school. Secondly, even if you have an average attention span, it's probably not enough to get you through this show. However, if you do happen to like American literature of the 1920s (which I do), and you have an above-average attention span (which I like to think I do), then run, don't walk, to the Arts Bank for the two remaining performances of Gatz today or tomorrow.

When the show begins, you honestly don't know what to expect. The first chapter of the book unfolds, told by a single narrator seated in a dingy and rather frightening office setting. Phones ring, people stroll back and forth with forms to file and papers to sign. The computer doesn't work. "Holy crap," I half feared, "is the whole show just going to be like this?" I mean, I'd read the reviews, so I knew better, but still: the conceit isn't immediately obvious.

But when that chapter ends and the second one begins, Elevator Repair Service's production concept becomes more clear: the others in the office assume the roles of the characters in the book, jumping in on the dialogue (but pausing just long enough for the narrator to interject the frequent "he saids" and "she saids" in the novel – that's right, the script is the book, completely unabridged) and using the office "props" in a surprising way to create the lush world of pre-Depression Long Island.

The piece is surprisingly physical, given the concept, and exceptionally well-timed. There are never any lags or pauses in the movement or the dialogue, and the action flows across the stage in perfect synchrony with Fitzgerald's beloved prose. The audience is able to combine the enjoyment of watching a play with the recaptured love of being read to, and as the play progresses and and the office world fades behind Gatsby's, it's easy to get completely lost in the presentation – an especially impressive feat when you consider that every actor onstage is cast, in one way or another, against type. (Nick—the narrator—is decidedly older than thirty. The handsome Gatsby is showing signs of male pattern baldness. The blonde Daisy is played by a brunette. Tom looks somewhere between Jason Lee and Ron Jeremy. And none of it matters after the first half hour of the show. None of it matters at all.)

I couldn't have imagined a better way to start my 2007 festival schedule than with Gatz. It's set an exceptionally high bar. I can't wait for what's next.