Once controversial, Mamet's play is as much old hat now as classic. For a prestigious conservatory for actor training to showcase only three actors in a class is unusual; maybe it's an attempt to scoop London's Old Vic. Of course, the sureshot dialogue between the two male leads makes for an interesting acting -- and listening -- experience. But what's said is hardly fresh.
The plot consists of several encounters, notably of two longtime but unequally successful pals. Their first meeting can lead to making or breaking their careers.
Charlie Fox , having just been approached by a bankable star to do a movie he controls, offers it to Bobby Gould. It's the first time Bobby can give a "go" to a script at his studio. The deal must be closed in the next 24 hours.
Just as the men's symbolic cups seem about to run over, temp secretary Karen arrives with real cups of coffee. Charlie bets Bobby big bucks he can't get her to his home and bed that night. Trying for another sure thing, Bobby privately asks Karen to read a script of a sci-fi apocalyptic nature -- the exact opposite of Charlie's pop type of prison flick. Karen is to bring it with comments to Bobby at his house. The visit leads to a change. In the morning, Bobby finds himself torn between friend and female. What to do?
Though Jason Peck is sharp-tongued, he's polished and attractive enough to make us try to care about Bobby. Yet he can't match Kevin O'Callaghan's way with Mamet's rapid-fire lines as nervy, then nervous Charlie. Revelation of character (or lack of it) as well as how the men relate to each other overshadow the play's themes of art vs. commercialism, of message vs. sex and violence in movie-making.
Unfortunately, Elisabeth Ahrens' Karen is only mildly attractive, and pretty passive to boot. It's hard to tell if her character is innocent and idealistic or just trying to seem so to get power. But she doesn't intrigue enough to have us dwell on the matter.
Another problem is extensive quoting from the supposedly important artistic book. So dense and stilted is its prose that we suspect it's crypto-mystic. old-fangled New Age.
James Florek's multi-leveled angular set at one point evolves into a raked-bottomed bedroom surrounded by clear cello curtains. It features lights in corners and other elements that suggest movie set gear. Novelty largely for its own sake.
A friend maintains that the scenery manipulation, though it takes too much time, was what he ended up liking best about the production. Reason: it kept him awake. I sympathize.
