Review: The Motherf**ker with the Hat

The Dora and Gemini Award-winning actor comes to The Coal Mine's (TCM) inaugural production - in partnership with Bob Kills Theatre -- fresh from this season's Shaw Festival. There, he received critical and popular acclaim as the Emcee in the musical "Cabaret" and appeared as Seth Lord in "The Philadelphia Story."

As the dignified Cousin Julio, Chioran reminds us of the dramatic and comic versatility ... the range ... he brought to Molina, the leading role in the national tour of Kander & Ebb's "Kiss of the Spider Woman" in which he starred with the legendary Chita Rivera. In Chicago, he received a Jefferson (Jeff) award for his memorably powerful and ultimately tragic performance.

Guirgis' 2011 Tony-nominated play is set in several New York locations. Two are in mid-town Manhattan: Veronica and Jackie's apartment in a seedy Times Square residential hotel and Ralph D.'s pad in nearby Hell's Kitchen. The third is Cousin Julio's living room in Washington Heights, a neighborhood in northern Manhattan.

It tells the story of four low-lifes: Veronica, a drug user (Melissa D'Agostino); her boyfriend, Jackie, an ex-drug dealer just released from prison (Sergio Di Zio); Ralph D. (Ted Dykstra), Jackie's drug counselor and parole officer; and his wife, Victoria ( Nicole Stamp.)

The exception is Jackie's gay Cousin Julio, (Chioran), a kindly athletic health freak. He channels movie action hero Jean-Claude Van Damme when the going gets tough, much like comic book character Billy Baxton cries "Shazam" to become Captain Marvel. Late in the play, Cousin Julio tells Jackie "So I brush my teeth now, I tape my left knee, then we go to Ralph. You. Me. VAN DAMME." In context, with Chioran's steely, fixed stare into destiny and puffed out chest with Hispanic accent, it's hilarious.

As the play begins, Jackie arrives at Veronica's apartment, fired up for some hot sex. However, before things start cooking, he finds a hat that is clearly not his. Outraged, he accuses Veronica of cheating.

And that becomes the central mystery of the play: Who owns the hat. Who is the motherf**ker with the hat? Well, we know for sure it's not a certain failed Toronto theatre producer with a ubiquitous fedora.

Director Layne Coleman shares the "Wall Street Journal's" opinion that MOFO is about "moral relativism," that is judgments that are only truth and false relative to some specific constant whether it be a historical era or a particular culture. In other words, it's the belief that not one individual standpoint is privileged over all others. Coleman adds that he believes it's also about moral ambiguity.

And that's what is at the heart of Guirgis' funny, though thin, script. It judges love and infidelity from the perspective of moral relativism, especially when it comes to right and wrong among these low-lifes.

Significantly, in comparison to the other characters, Cousin Julio, in two emotional monologues (as delivered by Chioran), explains his emotions including the pain he has suffered.

The other characters in this production merely spit out Guirgis' comic, street argot, profanity laden script. The actors don't let us into their souls. They talk more than they listen. Their incapacity to think or feel emanates from their inability to express themselves. They fail to understand each other and, of course, to connect in meaningful ways.

Guirgis uses the "f" word as frequently as the media uses the word "iconic," which means after a few minutes the adjective is meaningless. You don't even hear it anymore. You could play a drinking game in which every time you hear the "f" word, you drink a shot of your favorite poison. Before you know it, you'd be placing your bets on the giant spinning wheel the room has become.

Guirgis' scatological prose pales in comparison to the master David Mamet, whose profanity often is hilarious poetry, especially in second-act scenes that explode with cuss words as in the second acts of "American Buffalo" and "Glengarry Glen Ross."

A problem in this production is inconsistent accents. Jackie, Veronica and Cousin Julio are supposed to be Puerto Rican. Born in Argentina, Chioran has a natural advantage over D'Agostino and Serio Di Zio with his noble stature, his precise Spanish pronunciations and decorum, his noble view of how society, the world, should be.

When Chioran first appears in Scene Three, the play comes alive and his fellow actors rise to the occasion. That's when the rhythms, methaphors and imagery of Guirgis are at their height, lifted off the page, heard as they were meant to be. When he reappears in later scenes, you can feel the audience lean forward in eager anticipation of the action to follow.

Chioran follows Guirgis' pacing and phrasing, knowing how to use silence, how to stop and let his words sink in. He is totally engaging. I wish that was true of the others actors. Then, the play would take off in its full potential.

Even so, this is a funny, entertaining play. In an intimate 50-seat theatre, you get totally involved in the action and have the rare privilege of seeing some gifted actors at work, especially someone as wonderful as Juan Chioran.

MOFO runs until Nov. 30th.

For tickets, visit www.brownpapertickets.com.

Now, a word about The Coal Mine (TCM):

The theatre is located at 798 Danforth Avenue, two blocks east of Pape/Danforth and, of course, the Pape subway station. It's located in a basement under the Magic Oven Pizzeria, hence its TCM moniker.

David Ferry, who directed Birdland Theatre's sensational, multiple Dora Award-winning production of Guirgis' compelling "The Last Days of Judas Iscariot," will mount British playwright Mike Bartlett's "Bull" in March. In May, TCM will present August Strindberg's "Creditors."

In its program note, TCM says "Our vision is to capture that Off-Broadway experience where intimacy, explosive talent, and dynamic texts meet and fuel each other."