I happened to catch an A&E "Biography" special last month on actor Kevin Bacon, and while watching, I was taken aback by how much work he had done that almost nobody gives him any credit for. Now in his early forties (and still looking as youthful as in his "Diner" days), Bacon has become synonymous with ubiquitous celebrity, having a Six Degrees-type game named after him and generally appearing as a supporting player in various Hollywood pictures. But what the actor may not realize is that placing him in this "he's everywhere" state is no insult. If anything, he is one of the most reassuring performers that exist, almost never slumming in a movie even when it's truly lackluster. And he has the graciousness to step back and realize he doesn't always have to be a leading man (though he fits that bill too); in fact, his best work comes when he recedes into the background when some showboating lead chokes on the scenery. His generous take on each role is always very apparent, and now he extends that to the stage in his first effort on one in nearly two decades.
Bacon is the best reason to see An Almost Holy Picture, Heather McDonald's lumpy, often highly-repetitive play about a mild-mannered minister named Samuel Gentle (played by Bacon) who, over two acts being the only person on stage, recounts his hopes and fears over a spiritual reawakening taking him all over the country on a quest to understand God. Told in a solemn, novelistic style by McDonald, the play starts off on a wide-reaching note and narrows its focus to concentrate on Samuel's home life, with a wife named Miriam who has had three unfortunate miscarriages before finally giving birth to their daughter, Ariel (coincidentally, the name of Bacon's love interest in his breakout film Footloose).
Most of Samuel's monologues concentrate on his grappling with his daughter's ailment, a rare disease called lanugo, in which a person's body is covered thoroughly with fine hair. In his new father role, he must deal with new challenges and try to put old hurts behind him, like the memory of a tragic bus accident in New Mexico which claimed several lives that affected him. Over the course of the play, Samuel will discover new things about himself, as both a minister and a father, and how important things are that are right under his feet.
If only playwright McDonald found new things in her own tale to keep the audience on their toes. The prose is often illuminating, if overripe, but the pattern of dialogue doesn't have much of a rhythm (the phrase "my hairy little girl" must be used at least 40 times throughout the course of the play).
One problem may be that the quiet production is far too quaint for the American Airlines Theater when a modest-sized Off-Broadway space would have been more suitable. The intimate nature of the play seems too stifled in this environment, though the design team has fashioned a first-rate look for it. Kevin Adams' superb lighting design neatly moves the proceedings along, even when McDonald's writing doesn't, and Michael Mayer does the creditable job of letting it fall into the hands of its excellent leading man.
While the material at first seems to call out for a performer with more innate mystery (say, Christopher Walken), Bacon is eventually the perfect choice. Instead of bellowing out to the crowd with a lot of bluster, he lends Samuel a very unpronounced dignity and lets you come to him. A smaller space would have also highlighted Bacon's modesty, but he ably fills out the space due to his unfettered charisma. Bacon makes this character touching and bluntly honest with what seems like little effort on his part, but when you realize how sincerely dedicated he is to this role, you recognize the abundance of skill on stage.
