This Lime Tree Bower
Christopher Ryan directs with remarkable confidence in the material's stillness. Presented upstairs at Quick Eternity, a cocktail bar tucked into the Seaport, the production dissolves the customary boundary between actor and audience. There is no conventional stage, scarcely any scenery, and almost no distance separating performer from spectator. Ryan wisely resists the temptation to manufacture unnecessary movement. Instead, the actors drift naturally among chairs, windowsills and walls, remaining present even while another tells his story, reacting with the smallest smile or glance. What might have become three isolated monologues instead resembles an evening in an Irish pub where conversation ricochets effortlessly from one raconteur to another. Ryan understands that McPherson's drama depends not upon theatrical embellishment but upon absolute trust in language, rhythm, and listening. The result is intimate in the truest sense: one feels less like an audience member than an invited confidant. [more]
