Review: Jobsite Theater Presents Martin McDonagh's THE PILLOWMAN at the Shimberg Playhouse

Jobsite Theater has been pushing the envelope for many years on local stages, and their latest foray into the warped world of Martin McDonagh--THE PILLOWMAN--is about the darkest yet. 

Harrowingly hilarious, THE PILLOWMAN is certainly not for everyone’s taste. To prove this, on the night I experienced the show, the couple in front of me, obviously horrified by the play’s balance between quirkiness, comedy and violence, stood up and walked out, almost defiantly. Their loss. Because in this terrifyingly twisted world that Mr. McDonagh has wrought, there is so much laugh-out-loud comedy and hold-your-gut horrors that you cannot turn away if you want to. I tried to figure out what that particular couple wanted from this show in the first place because this production delivered everything you may want, or at least everything I want: A brilliant script, galvanizing performances by some of our strongest actors, tech elements ingrained to make the work soar, and the feeling that we aren’t going to see anything like this in a long time (it’s been 19 years since Jobsite last produced THE PILLOWMAN).   

Maybe the couple wanted something more palatable, maybe some Neil Simon or something easily digestible like that--a play that may be both good and powerful in its own way but that, in the end, won’t move them beyond nostalgia or feel-good vibes. Maybe they wanted a drama that doesn’t make them ask questions, that plays nice and leaves you with nothing but a positive view of a shallow universe,  a work that’s safe and freeze-dried and so utterly, utterly forgettable.  If that’s all that you want, then trust me, you are not a Pillowfan and THE PILLOWMAN is not for you. 

THE PILLOWMAN is anything but forgettable.  You take it with you, reenacting the scenes in your head on the drive home, reconstructing the events and bending your mind, trying to uncover its meaning.  It’s a show that’s impossible to shake off. 

Set in some kind of a Totalitarian state, THE PILLOWMAN opens with short story writer, Katurian, being forcibly interrogated by two police officers, one a self-described “good cop,” Tupolski, and the other the veritable “bad cop,” Ariel.  It seems that Katurian’s stories are inspiring or influencing a couple of real-life child murders in the area, stories with titles like “The Little Apple Men,” “The Little Green Pig” and “The Little Jesus.”  But then Kururian’s mentally challenged brother, Michal, has also been apprehended by the police and perhaps holds the key to the true identity of the person responsible for murdering these children.

Writing a plot description to such a show takes away the wild ride that we experience in McDonagh Land, the feverish highs as well as the dead-panned lows, emotional outbursts as well as chilling moments of dread.  Only in McDonagh Land do the words “child murder” and “hilarious” fit together so smoothly, so easily, like peanut butter and chocolate. But this is a show that had the audience laughing out loud, uneasy laughter for sure, but laughter nonetheless. The darker the show becomes, the funnier it seems to get.  It’s a comedy that’s not only pitch black but pitch perfect.  

Jobsite has scored quite a coup with its cast of local A-listers, the go-to performers when you want to ensure that, no matter what, you have an excellent play: Georgia Mallory Guy as Katurian, Steven Sean Garland as Ariel, Paul Potenza as Tupolski and Troy Padraic Brooks as Michal. A young newcomer, Porter Long, makes for an impactful cameo in the startling part of “Child.”

Georgia Mallory Guy has always been one of those performers that you adore onstage and only wish she appeared in shows more often.  Ever since her turn in The Flick at Jobsite many years ago, I have sat in eager awe at what she can bring to a performance.  And here, as Katurian, she’s onstage, sitting battered and bruised, her nose bleeding, for pretty much the entire show.  She brings so many layers, letting those piercing eyes of hers say so much with a mere glance. It’s a beautifully rendered portrayal, blistering, one of the best I’ve seen in the past few years.

The same can be said for both Mr. Garland and Mr. Potenza.

In show after show, Mr. Potenza showcases a remarkable versatility, from a man succumbing to cancer in the great Anna Purna to the title role in The Elephant Man.  Here, donning oversized glasses that make him look kind of like Swifty Lazar, he gets to show off his comedic acting chops.  He’s overt but never over the top.  As the “good cop” in charge, he seems more sarcastic, more lethal in his own way, than the “bad cop.”

And as that “bad cop,” Mr. Garland is terrific.  He’s so natural onstage, almost relaxed, that when he ultimately bursts more than once, we’re always taken aback.  I first saw Mr. Garland onstage in a short play showcase a decade and a half ago, playing a drunk, and I thought the actor onstage was actually inebriated because he was so real, playing a person trying to be sober rather than trying to look drunk.  As Ariel, Mr. Garland smiles at his prisoner, his prey, and seems to be having the time of his life battering the victim, circling her like a shark; he’s comfortable in his skin but beware when his teeth clench into a smile.  But the part calls for heart as well, not just an old yeller, and this is where Mr. Garland shines the most, where we believe him when he excitedly makes a change of heart. 

As Katurian’s brother, Troy Padraic Brooks is a godsend. Rarely have I ever seen a performance that is both pitiable and terrifying, heartbreaking and horrific. Like Lennie Small meets John Coffey.  He more than holds his own with the other actors and had me questioning what the character would do next, a master at unpredictability.  It’s a great part, and Mr. Brooks brings so much child-like pathos to a role that will cause you to move closer and closer to the edge of your seat, wanting so bad to turn away but unable to do so.     

THE PILLOWMAN is gorgeously directed by Summer Bohnenkamp and David Jenkins.  Under their guidance, the actors give the performances of their lives and the technical aspects of the show greatly shine.  Jo Averill-Snell’s lighting is beyond effective, right down to a burning trashcan near the end.  And Chris Giuffre’s set design—of an interrogation room and a holding cell—works quite well (there’s a THX-1138 sterility to the white walls).  Spencer P. Meyers’ illustrations, projected during the telling of some of the stories, capture both the stark darkness and the stick-figure innocence of childhood, like a psychotic child’s rendering of Love Is kids.  

Best of all is Jeremy Douglass’ score, sort of a Bernard Herrmann/Jerry Goldsmith amalgamation that adds just the right amount of creepy background music without swallowing the show with horror movie bombast.

It all comes together beautifully: Script, acting, direction, tech, music. 

So, if you desire to see one of Jobsite’s strongest plays in memory, one that more than earned its standing ovations on the night I attended, then please don’t miss this.  It had me laughing and gasping and holding my breath all within seconds. There are moments when you want to cry out and others when you dare not make a sound.  You leave shaken and satisfied, smiling and cringing, uplifted by great theater and bruised by the emotional punch that THE PILLOWMAN delivers.  It ranks way up there with Jobsite’s very best.

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