Ed Harris sits all alone on the stage. The house is shabby, on its last legs, as is Dodge, the character Harris portrays. There’s rain outside the window. The room is staged with two small TVs, a bucket on the floor, hideous old wall paper and carpet. Dodge himself is none too gorgeous. He wears a baseball cap, gray T-shirt, checked shirt. Coughing, dozing, drinking whiskey from a hidden bottle, covered with a spread that has seen better days, Dodge is pretty much out of it. What’s amazing in this scenario is that Harris, doing practically nothing, is spellbinding.
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