Review: THE WHITEHEADED BOY is Spoiled at The Adobe

The Adobe Theater's production of the Whiteheaded Boy opens in the typical way, with a Stage Manager giving general announcements-turn off your phone, promote our show, the upcoming season. Then the he begins to describe the set in which he stands: the play begins. It's an interesting take: breaking the fourth wall from the first stroke, and framing the action with commentary.

But then the Stage Manager, mumbling and ponderous, begins to describe the furniture: It was Mahogany. The audience learns this and many other facts, and is left to wonder why-since no fact takes precedence over any other: All are equally banal. When at last the characters come on stage, a solemn parade of Irish peasants, the Stage Manager gives them the same dour thoroughness he gave the furniture. How dismaying that when the characters finally began to speak, the furniture begins to gain appeal-the people are less charismatic than the Mahogany.

The energy picks up, eventually-the second act has a good clip to it, but much too late. Already the Stage Manager, sitting uselessly to the side of the stage, has introduced to every character in the large ensemble (multiple times, for whatever reason). And already, each of these introductions has failed to contribute much more dynamism than the furniture could. This failure is not for lack of trying-in most cases. The actors, for the most part, give what they can to an uninteresting, outdated, foreign farce. Perhaps if they were professional, the script could've hummed along better, but I don't think this play-a plodding Irish family comedy with one-hundred-year-old themes-lends itself to contemporary appreciation.

But in a few cases, better performances would have done wonders-if not to make this play great, then at least to give it life. Two roles in particular-that of the family's mother Mrs. Geoghan and of Denis Keoghan the namesake 'whiteheaded boy'-demanded depth dynamism and charisma that their actors-Meta Williams and Riley Carson Lewis-could not offer. Even the general business of keeping the pace fell short under Williams' many flubbed and stuttering lines, not to mention her damp monologues-which instead of suffusing her family with sympathy and warmth as they were intended, simply reflected an unpracticed actor's unconvincing delivery. Lewis, likewise, seemed incapable of grasping the depth of his character's experience-as a spoiled boy suddenly ostracized by his family and facing sudden poverty. His emotional palate consisted of little more than a vague monotonous indignation. Because Williams is returning to the stage after many years, and Lewis hasn't performed outside of high school, it's not difficult to recognize the cause of their limitations in these roles: This is amateur, community theater.

However, it's no secret that Albuquerque is blessed with many high caliber amateur actors-and a quite few make appearances in this show. Most notably, Micah Linford and Kathleen Welker, who try admirably to lift the stage's flat atmosphere. Their characters become beacons for the audience's attention. Though they cannot save the show from dragging, they do uphold their own energy. Among their weaker co-actors they manage to respond with a range of feeling despite monotonous prompts; and among the better-practiced actors, they manage to carve out moments of real quality theater-surprising, convincing, moving. Unfortunately, the quality talent in this show doesn't have much opportunity to shine because they are tied-down in flat characters and unimaginative staging.

For many reasons, the Whiteheaded Boy does not justify the price of admission. It drags, does not hold interest, and never seems to 'say' anything. I wish I had better things to write but my job is to tell the truth.

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