REVIEW: Brighton Beach Memoirs

Jackson Garke stars as an impressionable and irrepressible pre-teen in Evergreen Players' poignant production of Neil Simon's "Brighton Beach Memoirs." Photo Credit: Rachel D. Graham

Neil Simon is arguably the most successful writer of comedies for the stage in the last half of the 20th century. He will be remembered for such still popular works as "Barefoot in the Park," "The Odd Couple," "The Sunshine Boys," and "Laughter on the 23rd Floor." They will be remembered because they are funny.

But there's another side to Neil Simon's prolific talent, an introspective, dramatic and purposefully cathartic side which draws on his own pain and through which he seems to be exorcising personal demons. Inspired by the styles of various and more respected "dramatic" playwrights, he works out his own "stuff" on the stage, perhaps hoping that we can benefit vicariously from his sometimes fiercely unflinching self-examination.

"Brighton Beach Memoirs," which is being presented by Evergreen Players at Center Stage through November 6, takes us into the chaos and misery of a crowded home filled with dysfunctional characters, as seen through the eyes of an impressionable and irrepressible pre-teen boy. It's sort of like Eugene O'Neill's "Long Days Journey Into Night" with twice the number of suffering souls, and, because this is still Neil Simon after all, punctuated by gag lines.

Pubescent Gene (energetically played by Jackson Garke) is growing up in a pressure cooker of a home in 1937 Brooklyn. Least afflicted in the family, his biggest concerns are a growing fascination with female nudity, masturbation, and getting blamed for everything that goes wrong in the house.

Meanwhile, world war looms on the horizon, and his Polish-Jewish family is legitimately concerned about an influx of refugee relations when there's already precious little food to go around. Dad (Ken Paul) carries the weight of the world on his weary shoulders as he schlepps through multiple jobs. Mom (Michele Wright) is a world-class worrier and a terrible cook. Gene's guilty and tormented brother (Joe LaFollette) tries not to bring shame to his family and fails. Also sharing the cramped space are Gene's squinting, lonely aunt and two cousins: one wants to quit school and become a chorus girl, and the other exploits her heart defect to avoid helping around the house.

Each character has his or her own personal crisis, which more or less overlaps the others' and adds exponentially to the overall atmosphere of dreadful malaise. The second act ups the ante of everyone's angst, adding complications to existing problems, and introducing new, insurmountable obstacles to happiness, peace, and even survival. Finally, Simon has to jam together a bunch of confrontation and reconciliation scenes to give the play satisfactory closure, even though almost none of the problems have actually been solved.

But, we are reassured, family is family, and family sticks together. That sentiment alone, twisted as it may be, still seems somehow better than what is happening to American families today, who seem to lack commitment and staying power.

Under the direction of Tony Catanese, the cast maintains a consistent tone of repressed suffering, leading convincingly to hurtful outbursts and inevitable blowouts of frustration. The play is such a downer -- and perhaps in a good way -- that Gene's wise-cracking aloofness is the only energy available to carry the audience through the pathos. But Simon's/Gene's one-liners become less and less amusing, as they devolve from a kind of cocky coping mechanism to a desperate expression of emotional detachment.

Neil Simon managed to escape the dehumanizing whirlpool of failure, at least professionally, and has earned his place in history. Abraham Lincoln is quoted as saying, "I laugh because I must not cry. That is all. That is all." But I can't imagine Simon writing this play without weeping over every page.

"Brighton Beach Memoirs plays at 7:30 p.m. Friday-Saturday, and 2 p.m. Sunday, through November 6. Tickets are $18, with discounts for groups, seniors and students. I do not recommend this play for children under age 12 due to mature themes and frank sexual dialogue. Call 303-674-4934 or visit online at www.evergreenplayers.org.