Drawer Boy, The

When a playwright can't explain the source of his work's popularity -- that's a mystery. And The Drawer Boy, written by Michael Healey in 1999, is certainly popular. In fact, it's one of the most-produced plays in American regional theaters. It is also being translated into several languages, including Japanese. Milwaukee audiences were fortunate to welcome Canadian playwright Michael Healey during the show's opening-night performance. When asked later about the play's popularity, Healey was at a loss to explain how the piece connects to audiences beyond the Canadian borders (where it was first performed).

It's easy to see how Healey crafted the play with Canadians in mind. The show contains many Canadian references (which Healey was kind enough to explain in a post-show talk). Healey divulged that the show got such great reviews when Chicago's Steppenwolf Theater produced it that other regional theaters began to take notice. Still, it's easy to see why the play may have been initially overlooked. The Drawer Boy doesn't open with a bang. Indeed, nearly seven minutes elapse between the curtain raising and when the first words of dialogue are spoken. This gives the audience plenty of time to absorb the onstage ambiance.

It is morning on a Canadian farm in 1972. A man, dressed as a farmer, sits at a battered kitchen table. He ignores the crowing roosters and lowing cows in the nearby barn. Eventually, he rises and slowly makes his way to the refrigerator. He makes a sandwich, working with a slow, rhythmic precision. As if on cue, another farmer appears, grabs the just-made sandwich, mutters a few words, and leaves. The first farmer, nonplussed, moves again to the refrigerator to repeat the sandwich-making routine. This time he is interrupted by a knock on the door. He opens the door and sees Miles, who quickly explains that he's an actor looking to "hang out" on a farm and develop some material for a play about farming to be performed by an actor's collective. The farmer introduces himself as Angus. Little does he know that Miles is the person who soon will change his life. The audience soon learns that Morgan, the other farmer, is the "brains" of this odd couple. He is protective of Angus. He also seems to take great delight in pulling the poor actor's leg. Miles' gullibility provides much of the play's humor. Eventually, the actor completes the play and farmers are invited to see an early rehearsal.

At first, Morgan is furious that some of his overheard discussions with Angus become part of the play's dialogue. But the simple-minded Angus, conversely, is delighted to hear their words uttered onstage. The audience learns that Angus is recovering from a severe brain injury that happened years before, during World War II. He has severe short-term memory loss, and bouts of aphasia. Hearing the play somehow stimulates Angus' memory, and he yearns to know the truth about the "lost" episodes in their lives.

The title of The Drawer Boy is somewhat of a double entendre. Angus is sometimes referred to as "the drawer boy," meaning the one with enough architectural skill to draw blueprints. In his current mental state, Angus also resorts to routines, such as his daily search through the kitchen's cabinets and drawers. Through these characters, the audience sees the connection between memory and identity. They also learn some lessons about friendship, guilt, lies and duty.

The play's language is languid and lyrical, and director Montgomery Davis grasps the slow, sad rhythms of these characters' lives. All three actors are put to the test in their ability to do extensive bits of "stage business." Most of this activity falls on Dan Katula as Angus. He must capture the audience's attention during long bouts of silence, and he succeeds. James Tasse, as Morgan, is the play's central actor. He runs the farm, and the lives of those who live inside its boundaries. His dry humor leavens some of the play's more somber moments. He keeps a wary eye on Miles, superbly played by Gerard Neugent. This type of boyish character is right up Neugent's alley, and it reminds one of his goofy night watchman in Lobby Hero.

Ably complementing their efforts is the slightly abstract farmhouse set, designed by Sarah L. Hunt-Frank, and the authentic-looking costumes by Ellen Kozak, which seem to have been transported directly from Farm n' Fleet.

On opening night, it must be noted that the lighting was slightly erratic in places. The gradual brightening of the morning sky, for instance, seemed jarring in its bursts of intensity.