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Name
Thea 101, Sec 01
Joe Jacoby
October 29th, 2004
Gint
A crisp fall evening encouraged me to seek out the warmer atmosphere of the auditorium located on the campus at North Idaho College. I, along with a handful of others, witnessed the opening night performance of Gint, written by Romulus Linney, and directed by Joe Jacoby. I gratefully accepted the free admission offered to all patrons and found a seat toward the front of the theater. Having been forewarned about the strong sexual content and language, I knew that my evening at the theater was not going to be one where I viewed a “traditional” play. My assumption was right, and as the performance progressed, I soon forgot about the warning. Instead, I concentrated on the phrase the audience was often given throughout, “Be yourself, and nothing but yourself.” Digesting those few words time and again, it became apparent to me that the play was trying to direct the audience toward the specific goal of obtaining and understanding the true purpose of “life and success.” When the actors took their final bow, I acknowledged that Gint had successfully accomplished this task within its mere two acts, for it exposed the concept of how easy it is to lose sight of “whom” we really are, as we frantically race around trying to “become” someone . . . trying to become the epitome of “success” in all eyes.
Settling down into my chair, I began taking note of my surroundings. The stage was centered in the proscenium fashion. Gint’s program offered only a few clues as to what was to come and the scenery could only be described as “scant.” Two wooden crates in their raw state, flanked a large wooden platform featuring ramps on all four sides. The backdrop consisted of long, skinny rails of wood, mimicking an oversized picket fence. The only color my eyes could feast upon was the multicolored quilt that was draped over one of the crates. By downplaying the program and scenery, Gint was obviously not willing to give away any of its story ahead of time! I was eager to discover why this was so and waited patiently for the dimming of the lights.
Soon, a lone man entered on the side of the stage. His large frame and prominent beard demanded attention as he played an Appalachian tune on his fiddle. Toward the end of his piece, nine actors filed onto the stage and up onto the platform. Upon playing the last note of the lonely tune, stark white stage lights illuminated the actors standing neatly in two rows. I immediately noted that they mimicked the same theme as the scenery . . . not scantily, but nondescript. Dressed entirely in black, either pants or long skirts covered their legs, while long-sleeved shirts covered the upper torsos. Each actor spoke small fragments in concession, and when combined, this formed complete sentences, (creating an entertaining way to narrate the future scenes of this episodic play). Their brief narrations amongst each other set up the surroundings for being nestled somewhere up in the Appalachian mountains, as well as giving us some short snippets of the upcoming escapades Gint was about to get himself into . . . , i.e., interludes with sluts, stealing a newlywed bride, wrestling with a hog demon’s, dealing with the devil. When the narrations were finished, I realized that the very short description of the play located within the program was left deliberately sparse for a reason. It transformed this unique introduction into a “glass of water” for an audience that was “thirsting for information” regarding the play . . . ingenious!
Three of the nine actors remained true to their character throughout the play, while the other six actors portrayed different characters in each scene. As we were presented to two of the lead characters, Pete Gint and Oldie Momma, played by Guiseppi Romano and Anne Selcoe, the other seven actors hastily filed off from the platform and sat down by the “picket fence,” presenting their backs to the audience. The effectiveness of the bland costumes allowed our attention to be drawn quickly to the two central characters downstage, Oldie Momma and Gint, forgetting that the other actors were still on stage. Desperately wanting to please his Momma by giving the impression that he was someone that would achieve grandness one day, Gint’s quick thinking lies continually rattled off from his tongue, one after the other. So smoothly delivered, that it provided Momma with a false security that her son was not the “good for nothing” she sensed deep down. Outwardly, her attitude was of disgust and disappointment that Gint was not providing for the family as he should have been, but her unconditional love for her son always rose up when Gint was yet again in trouble.
The energy that exploded from Romano’s performance as he told his wild stories, literally consumed the audience. One almost felt as if they were sitting right behind Gint as he expounded on about his harrowing ride on a stag deer down the mountainside, barely coming out of the ordeal alive. Romano commanded our attention with his booming voice and animations as he told his stories, giving the needed ingredients to bringing Gint alive to the audience, creating a realism to his lies.
Before the end of the first act, we were introduced to Sally Vicks, played by Rebecca
Mc Neil. Her appearance was quite plain (as the others). But Sally Vicks stood out . . . she had a “softer” demeanor about her . . . almost angelic. Costumes being the same didn’t hide the fact that she walked slower and spoke with a “softness” . . . she gave the appearance of being shy and caring. The other female actors had more of a “come-hither/vixen” auras swirling about them. Their gait had the sensual hip swing motion going, they licked their lips, felt their bodies, and spoke huskily at times. What a wonderful contrast this created for the audience to revel in!
As each episode was introduced, the reasoning for the ramp platform became obvious. The high demand of quick changes, which gave rise to new times and places of Gint’s life, was easily accomplished with this simple item. It provided a smooth transition for the actors to set up the current dilemma Gint had gotten himself into. As we were taken through Gint’s life, spanning from young adulthood to his declining old age, the actors changed effortlessly from scene to scene. The two crates beside the platform also played a huge part in helping create the image needed for each segment. They effortlessly went through our imagination as a casket, a seat on a bus, or a house. The most memorable usage was when it was used to close the first scene . . . Momma’s bed. This final episode was particularly moving for it allowed the audience to witness Gint’s unmeasurable love for his Momma, making it “touchable” to us. Momma was lying down and was covered with the colorful quilt. Gint, in his true form, began another one of his flamboyant stories, giving Momma the “ride of her life.” Having her lean against his back, we were going on a ride with Momma, for Gint was taking us up to see the Governor and Jesus. She died peacefully, “seeing” Jesus, while Gint tenderly cradled her head in his lap. It was an incredibly moving and effective scene.
The sparse scenery, nondescript costumes, and lack of props, forced the audience to utilize their imaginations in creating Gint’s world. The constant demand of trying to figure out where Gint was, successfully pulled the audience across the bridge of theatrical realism. Though Gint was not my preference of entertainment, leaving the auditorium left me pondering those few words yet again . . . “Be yourself, and nothing but yourself.” I quickly tucked the program into my purse and dashed through the brisk air, searching for my automobile. As I sit here tonight, pounding out my review for Gint, I have come to the conclusion that there will always be obstacles and choices sitting on the path that leads to “success,” just like Gint was faced with. But are those obstacles ones that we have created in our own minds? What will you choose to help you reach your idea of success? When do you “become” successful? How one arrives at success is crucial . . . , are the paths behind you burned? The difference between success and the “appearance of success” is simple. It is only in the mind of the beholder . . . so no matter how fast we race through life, we still come to the moment in time where we must face what we have created. Will you be more like Oldie Momma, extremely poor but profoundly rich? Will there be someone to gently cradle your head as you leave this world? Or will you favor Gint . . . extremely rich but profoundly poor?