Polished Performances, Small Space

I have a perfect idea. Let’s take King Lear, one of the most well known Shakespeare plays (good or bad, depending on your opinion of the bard), contemporize it, and write it as a comedy. Will it ever work? Well, in Central Works’ revival of their 2002 play, Every Inch a King, it does, for the most part. Just spot the Lear references and tally up your score at the end.

“Our focus is originality,” the mission states at the beginning of the program, and this play, while thematically taking from a non original source, is stuffed full of original ideas in making the ultimate tragedy a little brighter, infused with hope, at least for the short term. This comedic adaptation is a sharp and interesting piece of theatre.

Three sisters, Gwen, Rae, and Leah have come to meet each other after their father, Reginald Leroy, an unseen but greatly felt presence in the other room, has had a stroke. From the start, he can no longer talk, but can communicate through thumping the “old walls” with his cane, and Gwen, the oldest sister, has assumed the role of caretaker, while the other two sisters have come, presumably at the request of Gwen, to talk about what to do with their father.

It is a workout for the three actors, even with a tight script – written by Gary Graves, who also directs - that keeps the action flowing, and in the Berkeley City Club, the performance space is more of a small lounge room than a theatre, seating just shy of 50. It is almost a double-edged sword; the nuances in all three of the women’s performances come out and the small space seems to get smaller as their tensions flare at one another as the night progresses. It is staged beautifully, with only one or two tricky areas in that “theatre in the almost round” space.

While the words push the action along at a nice pace, it was only the interactions between the sisters that was truly interesting about the play – there was a smattering of a plot, an accountant named Ed who wants to sell the land, and who was/is in a relationship with Gwen and Rae, and the character development is little more than stock: sister who cares, sister who doesn’t, sister who’s innocent (but psychic? Maybe it runs in the family).

However, the actors themselves inhabit the characters fully. Rica Anderson plays the youngest, Leah, who has found religion in the ancient Native American tribes of the region. Bad form to laugh at spiritual dances? Not quite sure, but Rica delivers them and other comments – mostly playing on her innocence – with the strength and commitment of a true comedian, as well as truly honest, heartfelt moments about her family.

Sandra Schlechter gives a touching performance as the oldest, Gwen, who takes care of Reginald, and has a great opening speech to the audience, (her 1st grade class). She has, perhaps, the most nuance of the three; the parts where she observes are sometimes more engrossing than the dialogue.

Jan Zvaifler plays Rae, the middle child, with bold strokes and confidence. Her strengths lie in the more action oriented scenes, when the sisters confront their pasts and previous arguments – Jan is incredibly convincing as a woman who wants what’s best for her family, and is completely sure on the path to take.

King is wonderfully designed in lights (Gary Graves), which invoke wonderful moodiness from sunsets to thunderstorms to the paranormal that happens at the height of the storm, to sound (Gregory Scharpen) – ranging from the sitcom idea of cell phones ringing at the exact inopportune time, to downright creepy, and costumes (Tammy Berlin), giving the three sisters distinct visual styles to even more heighten their characters. Of particular note should be the set designer, Chad Owens, who uses the small space to the utmost efficiency, and hinting at the disrepair with duct tape and rotary phones.

Aside for a few times where the energy fell, maybe a fluke, maybe a dropped line, maybe the fact that I was laughing too loud, the play felt longer than it was. But at an hour and forty-five minutes, it ends as a pleasant surprise at the end of the night. It was a great time out at the theatre; this is what art should be – simply extraordinary.

Every Inch a King by Gary Graves: 8 p.m. Thursday-Saturday and 5 p.m. Sundays through Nov. 18 at Berkeley City Club, 2315 Durant Ave. $25-$29, sliding scale; Thursdays, pay-what-you-will. 510.558.1381. centralworks.org.