It seems highly unlikely that in the space of one week,
Â
 Much of this play's pleasures, I'm sure, are attributable to the theatrical but tight, seamless direction of Alex Willis. Willis, in the director's notes states that, "the action of the play in a straightforward and direct manner [allows that] the audience will be left to find the playwright's desire on their own." Well, straightforward is a relative term, for the play by its very nature – time warping characters, dead and alive meet each other face to face, the time changes back and forth, and many actors play two characters – is not straightforward at all. Its plot and construct demand a theatricality that doesn't really work in other media, and the fact that not one second of the production is confusing, but entirely thought-provoking and mesmerizing is a testimony to the high caliber of directing Willis has provided. The same can be said for her flawless casting
Â
The cast, a mix of Mobtown regulars and newcomers, does a fine job with very difficult material. As present day art student, Patrick, Reece Thornbery shows remarkable range and a stunning array of ways to act and look shocked, surprised, skeptical and incredulous, all without ever taking an easy, stereotypical route. He also understands, which is crucial to the complexity of emotion required of the character, that nuance, a range of levels to his voice, and blissful underplaying are the keys to success here. He is nothing less than amazing. (I enjoyed his largely comic turn in Measure for Measure, and can only anticipate even greater things from him next time!) Opposite him, in the other leading role of Vincent Van Gogh himself, Loren Dunn is equally mesmerizing. He, too, underplays when overdoing would be so much easier, not better. Dunn also becomes the embodiment of obsession and a completeness of passion that only the truly driven feel. His speeches explaining his need to produce art and find color are so impassioned one feels as though the actor is channeling Van Gogh in a weird séance kind of way. The two young actors work together in much the same way paint brush, paint and canvass work together. They also exhibit a palpable sexual energy/chemistry in a moment in the play where the two artists connect in all ways that two men can. This is not to imply overt homosexuality in the play, but rather to suggest the deepest of male bonds. Both actors are forces to be reckoned with – and it is a tribute to both that neither upstages the other.
Â
In the dual role of Hallie Miller and Marguerite Gachet, Tiffany James (seen last by this reviewer at Spotlighters in Months on End) has at last found a play that fully utilizes her enormous talents. She is one of the most natural actors I have ever seen, on Broadway or elsewhere. You never ever feel that she is acting in either distinct character she delivers here. Her characters demand a more forceful portrayal, and yet she also resists the urge to chew scenery. Ms. James does more with a look of her eyes than most actresses can do with their entire bodies. She, too, smolders with a sexuality that for one character is overt and a tool of manipulation (artists, not art, turn Hallie on), and for the other is more restrained yet equally powerful. Ryan Whinnem, usually behind the scenes directing (his intriguing Measure for Measure last played this space), is in a dual role here. One, a crooked art dealer bent on creating a big scam surrounding a lost Van Gogh self-portrait, is a study in cat and mouse acting. Deliciously evil, and ruthlessly charming, Whinnem paces around the set (moodily designed by Carlos Giuillen and artfully lit by Whinnem) like a cat biding his time until the mouse comes out of the hole. And as Van Gogh's art partner, Paul Gaugin, Whinnem provides a lively yin to Van Gogh's yang. Despite a few botched lines, the actor gives notice that he really understands theatre no matter which side of the footlights he is on. Finally, in what can be a thankless role as narrator, Mark Squirek as Dr. Jonas Miller, object of Patrick's admiration and Hallie's largely absent father, delivers a surpringly full performance. A lesser actor would simply narrate and join a few scenes as called upon with a dull, oft-used detachment. Instead, Squirek has as much nuance and level to his performance as the rest of the company. And in his other role, Dr. Paul Gachet, he also scores with a reckless abandon – he plays serious, drunk, and funny with equal dexterity and nary a stereotypical gesture in sight.
Â
Mobtown again has come up with must-see, edgy, challenging theatre. It amazes that they do so much with such a small space. Inventing Van Gogh, one of the best productions of the
Videos