He Who Gets Slapped proves why playwright Leonid Andreyev, but for embroilment in Russia’ s political situation, might have been heir to Chekhov’s important position in Russian drama. The play is a powerful illustration of deadly results of quests for money and control over others’ lives and even bodies. Andreyev uses elements of circus and goings on backstage as emblematic of what happens in the world outside the tent. Ross Beschler as the hero, handsome and mysterious, comes sadly to Papa Briquet’s small, struggling circus, asking to become a clown. Only Papa (Bob Weick, realistically showing disenchantment with life and its treatment of older people and art) and his wife know his secret past. Bent on being anonymous, the white-faced man becomes He, a clown who wins audience applause for being slapped. Brian McCann’s selfish and extremely self-indulgent Count Mancini controls his apparently adopted (actually bought) daughter Consuelo. Isabella Fehlandt as the beautiful young equestrian tango artist suffers from his constant badgering for money she earns. HIs latest scheme is to sell her off to The Baron. As that rapacious villain, Nathan Foley successfully represents the power of money in establishing and sustaining an unjust, unequal social order. Both Count and Baron illustrate objectification of women as means of sexual gratification. Consuelo’s performing partner, Ben Grinberg’s sulking Bezano, can only resent the power Mancini wields. Her fellow workers pity her yet in some ways push her to conform to the needs of the circus. Their rose-filled preparation for her “marriage celebration” to the Baron is anything but. Meanwhile, He is searched out by Terry Brennan’s perturbed Stranger, now revealed as having stolen He’s wife. Ironically, she now loves only her real husband He, an accomplished man who’s been drained of family, fame, fortune by the marital perfidy. He will no longer wear his clown’s make-up but rather, in his own person, fatally steal Consuelo from the circus, Count, and her would-be despoiler. All is presented in Matthew R. Campbell’s fulsome backstage full of trunks and props with a central staircase covered in colorful carpets that extend out to make a wide stage. It’s approachable from the rear on both sides (leading to the circus tent on one side; on the other, from the outer world). There’s an ample niche on house left for the actor-musicians with their piano, humble string instruments and horn along with a notable kazoo. Their music is perfect whether as entertainment or accompaniment. Excellent make-up in authentic circus tradition is complemented by a range of costumes. Black immediately characterizes the bad guys. Lighting makes all the difference in the designation of places, times, mood. Director Damon Bonetti brings to a dense text a staging that leads to contemporary understanding of a difficult but significant drama. It’s not only a period piece but one of enduring importance. It fulfills well the mission of the company that presents little known or seldom produced plays that deserve much attention.
