DESIRE UNDER THE ELMS

Eugene O'Neill, perhaps the first great American dramatist, has been the focus of a series of presentations at the outstanding Goodman Theatre this winter. Several of his powerful scripts have been staged by various theatre groups, with the Goodman itself mounting DESIRE, the O'Neill attempt to Americanize Greek tragedy. Starring Brian Dennehy and now featuring Amy J. Carle, who had understudied Carla Gugino in the role of Abbie, the work is a fitting and appropriate work for a changeable Chicago winter.

Director Robert Falls apparently went back to the drawing board for this successful work, tossing out O'Neill's extensive stage directions and reinterpreting the setting and staging. Perhaps the most striking result was the decision to eliminate any elms, or any trees or anything else soft or gentle from the set. Instead, the work morphs into DESIRE AMONG THE ROCKS, with a mountain of giant boulders at least fifteen feet high dwarfing the characters and allowing them no place of refuge. Along with the rock mountain, other boulders hang from ropes, looming over the characters at every moment. For that matter, the Putnam house hangs from the rafters above the heads of these characters for many scenes, with the visual effect that everything in their world is ready to crush them all at a moment's notice.

Most of O'Neill's powerful works investigate the depths of pain and suffering that people inflict upon one another, and this script is no different. It allows fine actors the opportunity to live in the skins of these people, bellowing and crying, threatening and lying, living their meagre lives to get whatever tragic result that might be in store. Brian Dennehy, as expected, is a true stage star in the role of Efrem, doomed to self-inflicted loneliness among the rocks. Carle, a pleasant surprise in the role of Abbie, emits desperation in her every move to avoid that same loneliness. It is difficult to see how the acclaimed Gugino, away on a film promotion tour, could have done any better.

The work is one hundred minutes of pain, with much of the catharsis of the Greek tragedy for those of us who return to homes that are indeed and in fact places of refuge.