The most challenging aspect of Stephen Massicote’s The Clockmakeris getting past the first few scenes. They seem to be entirely disconnected, and time must pass before the audience has any idea of what it is watching. But that’s exactly what the playwright is striving to achieve – the experience of not entirely knowing what is coming next. Under Mary MacDonald Kerr’s sure-footed direction, the early confusion eventually comes into sharp focus.
As the play opens, a timid German clockmaker is being grilled by a bureaucrat. The clockmaker is clearly nervous about why his presence was requested. Both men sit at a plain wood table, flanked by two simple wood chairs. Their exchange is brief, but disturbing. The clockmaker is unnerved about questions relating to some crime he committed – or may commit in the future. He proclaims his innocence.
Shades of Hitchcock and TV’s “The Twilight Zone” seem to dominate The Clockmaker’soverall tone. The play goes backward and forward in time – until time stops all together near the play’s conclusion. More scenes between the bureaucrat and the clockmaker are interspersed with other scenes. Some of them are at the clockmaker’s shop. It is a sleepy little shop, at least until Frieda suddenly appears. She is an attractive young woman, but she behaves nervously, too. Frieda asks the clockmaker to repair her clock. It is broken into so many pieces that the clockmaker tells her that fixing it would take more time than to build a new clock. Frieda is visibly distressed at this news, and she leaves the shop without her shawl or fresh loaf of bread.
More sequences take place in the apartment that Frieda shares with her husband, Adolphus. He is a big man, who makes an imposing presence despite the fact he is dressed casually. Frieda is clearly afraid of him, and soon the audience discovers why.
Later, Frieda has several interactions with Heinrich, the clockmaker, who now agrees to repair the clock in order to spend time with her. Heinrich continues to work, except when he is being summoned for further interrogation. The experience leaves Heinrich so shaken that he begins to wonder if he is losing his memory. Frieda and Heinrich eventually run off together. Where they end up comprises one of the play’s many twists. Finally, the pair is faced with a life-changing choice, and the audience is left to wonder what they would do in the same circumstances.
Next Act Theater is fortunate to have a cast composed of versatile and well-known local actors. Three of them have performed at almost every theater in town. Here, Richard Halverson brings a mortician’s gravity to the role of the bureaucratic Monsieur Pierre. Drew Bhrel commands a good deal of sympathy in his portrayal of Heinrich. Molly Rhode conveys sadness, regret and fear as Frieda. When she is embraces her freedom, her joy almost radiates to the back row of the theater. Dan Katula brings a tremendous amount of intensity – and perhaps a touch of insanity – to his troubled character, Adolphus.
Production values add to the play’s overall tension, from the edgy, multi-platform set to the deliberately drab costumes (Frieda’s lovely dress is the exception). The lighting plays a large role in focusing the audience’s attention, since few set pieces or props are used in this production. The Clockmaker may be thought-provoking, but it could use a bit of warmth to chill a bitter winter’s night.
