Review: Rope

Fans of Alfred Hitchcock's 1948 film adaptation of Patrick Hamilton's 1929 play Rope will be in for a bit of a surprise by the play's revival at the Zipper Theatre. There are, of course, plenty of similarities between the classic film and its theatrical source: the story of two college boys who kill a classmate for a thrill remains, as does the device of staging the play in real time. But

whereas the eighty-minute movie is a tight and intense character study of murderers, the two-and-a-half hour play is a long, overblown, and melodramatic proof of the pudding "less is more."

Indeed, the play is a frustrating study in paradox. For an example, the opening scene is expertly staged in almost complete darkness, creating wonderful intensity. Unfortunately, the dialogue spoken in the darkness is so heavy in exposition that the scene quickly goes from intensity to near self-parody. And such is the rest of the play: whenever David Warren's apt direction threatens to create some true chills, the overly verbose script quickly deflates the mood. It seems as though Hamilton had sufficient material for a strong one-act play, but due to the theatrical conventions of the 1920's, felt obligated to drag it out for a full three acts.

Likewise, the performances range from wonderfully intense to ridiculously over-the-top-- often from the same actor. Sam Trammell, as the suave sociopath Brandon, is appropriately chilling, but despite his almost constant presence onstage, he barely makes an impact. Chandler Williams, as his lover and partner-in-crime, is given less to do, but makes much more of it, going spectacularly to pieces before our eyes as the play progresses. Zak Orth, playing a morose twist on Oscar Wilde, suffers the most from the dichotomy, turning in a frustratingly uneven performance that ranges, in one scene alone, from heartbreakingly poignant to painfully affected. His natural intensity is truly breathtaking and thrilling, which makes the occasional boil-over into melodrama that much more tragic. In the smaller roles of the friends and family of the victim (and killers), John Lavelle, Ginifer King, Neil Vipond, and Lois Markle all give fine performances, with Mr. Lavelle especially amusing as an old-school dandy who punctuates almost every line with an "I say!" Christopher Duva is also memorable in his far-too-brief role as a French butler. Given far too little to do in the script, these characters barely move the story along, and it is to the actors' credit that, even though they really are, they never feel like filler.

David Warren's direction is precise and sharp, and adds some new levels to the play by acknowledging the sexual relationship between the anti-protagonists, which would have been impossible in 1929. James Youmans' set is ideal for the funky Zipper Theatre, economically showing off the wealth and conspicuous consumption of the characters. Likewise, Gregory Gale's costumes are lovely and elegant, giving us plenty of details about the characters before they open their mouths.

Some scripts age well, and others feel painfully dated mere decades after their premiere. While the dramatic styles of Rope are right out of a time capsule, the play's themes are universal and fascinating. It's a true pity, then, that the script buries those themes under unnecessary and repetitive scenes that only weaken the tension. Hume Cronyn knew what he was doing when he shortened– and tightened– the script for the movie adaptation. When a rope is this long, it's hard to pull it taut.