Review: 154 & PARADISE Examines Guilt, Fault, and Consequence

Seven characters enter a room. Who among them is responsible for the events that ultimately summate in James Henny's (Bill Egan) death in a car accident at the junction between highway 154 and Paradise road? There's Henny's daughter, Treysa, and his annoyed ex-wife, Ruth; there's the impatient employer who wants the job done yesterday and the best friend, Eddie, who owes Henny quite a bit of money; there's the current girlfriend, Jewel, and Richard Kline, the man who Henny hit on the highway; and one random women with no apparent connection to anyone in the room. With the line-up established, the inquisition of The Producing Unit's premier of Gerald DiPego's 154 & Paradise, a methodical unveiling of mystery and accountability, begins.

The investigation is run by a man known only as "The Examiner." There's no point in perpetuating falsehoods--the Examiner has the ability to create precise reenactments of the statements in question to confirm the truth. Henny's last day is shown through a patchwork of re-creation, beginning with his daughter, Treysa (Katherine Bottoms), asking for a loan. As the events of his last day alive are pieced together, audience and characters alike see how each of Henny's interactions influence the next--it's an illustration of the interconnectedness of actions and consequences. Who is at fault for Henny's death? Was the car accident due to Henny's state of agitation, heightened by confrontations with his daughter, his ex-wife, and his girlfriend? Was it due to the stress placed on him by his job, or the futility of trying to squeeze owed money from a flakey friend? Or is the accident simply that: the chance result of distracted driving?

Blunt and vigorous, 154 & Paradise accentuates the nature of anger motivated by loss and the simultaneous fear and comfort of blame. The Examiner, an omniscient ringleader, offers no option but confession; he manipulates the characters into seeing "the truth" as it appears from one particular angle. The line of questioning for each character yields a confession of sorts, though not necessarily an admission of guilt. Yet the result is always a reassignment of blame; the characters are eager to relieve their own consciences by foisting responsibility for Henny's death on anyone else. The insidious influence of mob mentality takes grip of the sensibilities of the grieving friends and family.

154 is intricate, but suffers from some stagnation in the course of the rising action. For instance, Henny has a conversation with his ex-wife, Ruth (Leslie Story), about liquidating funds through the sale of their house, followed by a much less dire conversation with his girlfriend, Jewel (Ivy Vahanian), about foiled vacation plans. Downstepping the conflict in this manner causes the story to lose potency, and it seems as though the scenes could be re-ordered to maintain higher stakes. In another example, Henny calls his friend, Eddie (John Brindle), apparently to ask for repayment on a substantial loan. But the conflict is avoided: rather than having a scene with Henny and Eddie, the phone call is merely ignored, and the rising action flounders. Conflict is always stronger in scene than in summary, and dramatic impetus should be continuously intensified as the story heads to fruition. Certain struggles in 154 & Paradise seemed surmountable (albeit a pain in the ass); the more unbeatable the odds, the more interesting the play--and the more leeway the actors have to exercise bursts of extreme emotion without losing believability.

The performances in 154 & Paradise are captivating (however forceful). Katherine Bottoms was compelling as Henny's floundering, rebellious daughter trying to free-fall into meaning, and Leslie Story was appropriately self-righteous as the ex-wife made to feel like an obstacle between Henny and his new life. Ed Romine gives an impressive, truly moving performance as Richard Kline, an aging professor who, after looking down for only a second, swerves over the line and collides with Henny. Romine is fragile and vulnerable, and his internal struggle is layered and complex: he's the only character who has any real claim to direct fault in the accident, and the only character whose actions are fueled by self-preservation and tortured remorse rather than the wayward, unfocused anger that accompanies unexpected loss. Kline is questioned about his age, and accused of dementia; there's a sense of desperation as he muddles his way through his confession. It's tragically natural for the rest of the characters to blame a seemingly baffled senior who shouldn't be behind the wheel.

154 & Paradise is a stark, edgy version of the transition myth, one that emphasizes the connection between choices, actions, and their unforeseeable effects. While the level of conflict in the production is, at times, uneven, 154 maintains an energetic pulse. Psychologically sophisticated with entertaining performances, 154 is a puzzle of blame, fault, and consequence. Though our transgressions vary in gravity, we are all guilty: the truth of our existence is an unavoidable cycle of action, fault, outcome, and culpability.

The Producing Unit Presents:
154 & Paradise
by Gerald DiPego
Directed by Peter Frisch

Center Stage Theater
Jan. 23-Feb 1st

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