What could be more daunting than a theatrical "deconstruction" of a famous Russian novel? That was the thought going through this reviewer's mind before the opening-night curtain rose on Crime and Punishment. The famous book is considered by many to be the first novel to probe the psychological underpinnings of its characters' actions.
For those who failed to read Crime and Punishment in college, the noted author, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, sets the novel in Russia in the 1860s. Raskolnikov, an impoverished writer, is being interrogated by a policeman concerning a recent murder. Gradually, Raskolnikov reveals a series of tantalizing clues that inevitably lead to his arrest. Before that happens, however, we are introduced to a number of characters, including a philosophizing drunk who lives upstairs from Raskolnikov; his sweet, religious daughter, and even the murder victim. As the story unfolds, this reviewer's hesitant thoughts begin to dissolve.
Here's the set-up: in 90 brisk-paced minutes, three actors assume a number of roles that move the story forward. The playwrights have done a brilliant job of distilling this long and wandering story into an engaging, tightly knit theater piece. It is no surprise the play did well enough at its Chicago premiere in 2003 to launch a successful Off-Broadway production in 2007. Milwaukee Chamber Theater is to be congratulated for offering this rare piece of work to Milwaukee audiences. The small cast and trim storyline allow the audience to follow every twist and turn of this suspenseful tale. The play sparkles with diamond-like clarity.
One actor plays Raskolnikov, the revolutionary writer, and the other two actors play a number of male and female roles. Under Patrick Holland's superb direction, the three all have their chance to shine. Mic Matarrese gives a memorable performance as Raskolnikov. Thin, haggard and raggedly dressed, he lurks about the stage almost like a caged animal. His shifty gaze is often drawn to the shadows of this darkly lit set. His initially calm demeanor eventually crumbles under the "friendly" interrogation of actor Drew Brhel as Porfiry. Mattaresse is convincingly entangled in the interrogator's web. The physical contrast between the two actors is striking: Matarrese, looking as if he hadn't had a decent meal in weeks, and the jocular and rotund Brhel, dressed in a bureaucratic dark suit. Raskolnikov suggests the play's ending as he watches a fly dart along the walls of Porfiry's waiting room.
Brhel successfully switches back and forth from Porfiry to another character, a drunk who lives in an apartment above Raskolnikov. The man drinks to forget his shameful past and his inability to provide for his family. His daughter, Sonia, becomes Raskolnikov's confidant. She represents the spiritual redemption that Raskolnikov desperately needs.
Leah Dutchin does a remarkable job with nearly a half-dozen characters assigned to her. With a quick shift of a scarf or a pair of glasses, she easily transforms from Sonia into the murder victims and even to Raskolnikov's faraway mother.
In a play filled with social commentary, it is interesting to note that of all the characters, only the bureaucratic Porfiry seems to be thriving. The rest are practically near death, either from alcohol, poverty or starvation.
This bleak story is played out on an intriguing three-walled set. The walls, painted a sickly green color, narrow toward the rear of the stage. Overhead is a small grid in place of a solid ceiling. One can easily imagine the space as a cell or a cage. Sections of the walls open and shut as needed, providing a number of hidden entrances and exits.
Watching Crime and Punishment is a good deal quicker than reading the lengthy tome. And this cast makes it a lot more fun, too.
