| . | 01/26/2010
Ages of the Moon
By: Dr. Dorothy Marcic
Photo by Ari Minz
As Sam Shepard ages, so do the main characters in his plays. Ages of the Moon, now playing at the Atlantic Theater, is no exception. Two old guys (Shepard is now 66) sit on a porch of a cabin that is in what seems to be a deserted wilderness, hot and parched, not unfamiliar surroundings for Shepard. And just as in other Shepard plays, things are not what they seem, and it takes most of the play for the truth to unravel.
Sean McGinley plays Byron and Stephen Rea is Ames, reprising their roles from the Dublin premiere of the play last year. While it is easy to see the influence of Waiting for Godot in Ages of the Moon, Shepard the playwright is more evident. Sparse dialogue. Secrets hidden and then revealed. Regrets. Attempts at redemption. Up until the end, most of the emotion comes from Ames, who has been thrown out by his wife, for some forgettable indiscretion, though previous straying is alluded to. Byron takes a Greyhound across the entire country to be with his despondent friend, and it is clear they haven’t seen each other for years. Talk meanders from drink to women to fishing to stories of days-gone-by to the impending eclipse of the moon. The extremely slow moving fan seems to be a symbol for the pace of the discussions—and perhaps their lives in the twilight years. In a fit of jealousy relating to a memory which may-or-may-not be true, Ames fetches his gun and shoots at Byron, only managing to hit the fan, which by this time has become annoyingly unreliable to the two men. The violence of the gun seems to unlock Byron’s emotions, because he now comes forth revealing a most shocking secret, in a spell-binding monologue of loss and being alone.
Though not much happens on stage, that is not true of the play, where the audience gets increasingly revealing glances of the character’s inner lives, perhaps seeing more than the characters themselves do. It’s not easy to write a full play with only two roles and keep it riveting. Even Waiting for Godot had two other diversionary characters. But Shepard’s writing is so good, I was happy just sitting there and listening to them conversizing.
McGinley and Rea performed superbly, never overacting, which would be a temptation in such a seemingly quiet production. Jimmy Wray’s direction is well suited to Shepard’s style and he allowed the quiet spaces, which were often, to gently linger, trusting the audience to stay connected. Brien Vahey’s set was sparse and enhanced the feelings of isolation in the play, while Paul Keogan’s wonderfully noir lighting added to the surreal subtext. Costumes by Joan Bergin captured that working-class rugged individualism of the West that Shepard often evokes. The only aspect that didn’t work for me was the fight choreography. I never thought they wanted to hurt each other. Ames and Byron seemed to be dancing more than fighting.
In the end, Ages of the Moon shows us Shepard, the playwright, continues to communicate with audiences in a way that leaves them entertained and provoked.
Atlantic Theater, 336 W. 20th Street, 212.645.1242
Through march 7
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