Review: Some Chills, Few Thrills at Rep's 'Pillowman'

He may be driveling and nervous, scared he's going to have his faced punched in, but Katurian of Martin McDonagh's The Pillowman repeats a mantra that rings true: "The role of a storyteller is to tell a story." Behind the electroshock torture, retardation, and crucifixion... there is a story being told at the Berkeley Rep. Just don't read it before bedtime.

In a veritable binge of creative energy, Irish playwright McDonagh penned seven original plays in 1994 (two trilogies and The Pillowman) and soon-after found himself as the first author to have four works produced in London since Shakespeare. But McDonagh and Shakespeare are far from sharing the same inkwell. Replace Shakespeare's lacey collars and flashy sword-fights with slit throats and unabashed dismemberment, and you're on the right track. A track that English and American theatre audiences can't seem to get enough of!

My first exposure to McDonagh was the Broadway production of his bloodbath The Lieutenant of Inishmore. Somewhere between the mutilated cat and ripped off toenails, I had to leave the house for a few minutes to be sure I wouldn't pass out...then returned to my seat and laughed like a banshee for the rest of the show. To find oneself amid a crowd of people giggling as someone's brains are blown-out is a repulsively hilarious theatrical experience only McDonagh seems to have mastered.

But gore is not used merely as a mask for pseudo-talent, for beneath it all, there is something truly primal and "can't put your finger on it" with McDonagh's work. Audiences are meant to feel uneasy; to ask if it is okay to have just laughed at what they witnessed. The storytelling in The Pillowman may hold first-prize f or its ability to make an audience feel uncomfortable not only in their seats...but their souls.  With such titles as "The Little Jesus," McDonagh's tales have a spell-binding ability to simultaneously lure and repel. Can a 9-foot man made of pillows who assists in child-suicides be an unlikely hero?

Katurian (an author in a totalitarian state) finds himself in question for two grizzly child murders. Katurian swears innocence...but the catch? The crimes uncannily match those described in Katurian's stories. At the mercy of the rough-and-tough cops, Katurian hears the screams of his slow-minded brother, Michal, in the cell next-door …the apparent innocent victim in a case of terrible coincidence. But things are never what they seem in this macabre comedy.

Tony Amendola (Tupolski) and Andy Murray (Ariel) are two formidable forces as "the good cop/bad cop." The tag-team bullying of Katurian is rough and juicy. Amendola's gradual slide into the hard-nosed detective is very well calculated, gaining a sadistic pleasure in driving Katurian through mental mazes. Trigger-happy Murray is brilliantly brutal, giving great pay-offs for McDonagh's flair of slipping in seemingly-forgettable (but invaluable) dialogue.

Erik Lochtefeld as Katurian is somewhat weak. While the role relies heavily on storytelling and interaction with other characters, Lochtefeld's expression seems too timid, nerdy, and non-transformative. Lochtefeld is fine as the storyteller. Unfortunately, this is also when most eyes are not on him, but rather watching the narrated action behind him.

The intriguing Matthew Maher is phenomenal as Michal, Katurian's mentally-challenged brother. Maher's voice and physicality are beautifully combined to exude pity, charm, and trepidation. Maher does his best to keep a long scene opposite Lochtefeld alive, yet at times it feels like the two are climbing a tall roller-coaster with non-climatic drops, killing the rhythm of some of McDonagh's witty thrills.

Despite some of the missed scares, The Pillowman definitely has its chills. Nancy Carlin (Mother), Howard Swain (Father), and Brigette Lundy-Paine (Little Girl) are wicked in Act 2. And it's fun...in that nasty way...when a theatre-full of people is startled and jumps at the same time. Thank you, Brendan Reilly (I often wonder how casting directors are able to "sell" that role to the kids' families). However, the most frightening moment of Opening Night was unscripted – when a patron was escorted out for a medical emergency. Props are due to both Lochtefeld and Maher for not losing focus in a deeply intense scene.

Antje Ellermann's set is especially functional with a moving "window-like" staging area for story reenactments, but seems over-lit for a dark play. The costumes designed by Anna R. Oliver lend themselves to the imagery of colorful children's books. Maher's velcro shoes and the Little Girl's yellow dress were great choices. And Obadiah Eaves' original music and sound design – filled with creepy violins slicing the air and a thumping tick-tock – hangs fear in the air before the lights go down!

Much like the online scrabble to see footage of Suddam Hussein's hanging or the usual slowing down to see a car accident, violence and morbidity will always have an audience. McDonagh has only harnessed that rugged and primeval draw (there's a 3-minute long death scene, for goodness sake!) and polished it for our remarkable and revolting viewing pleasure.

The Pillowman: by Martin McDonagh, directed by Les Waters, at the Berkeley Repertory Theatre through February 25, 2007. 2hr 15mins with 1 intermission. Tickets ($33-$61) are available at 510-647-2949 or 888-BRT-Tix and www.berkeleyrep.org. The Berkeley Rep is located at 2025 Addison Street, Berkeley. Photos by Kevin Berne.

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