When one of Milwaukee’s newest theater companies decided to mount a production of Martin McDonagh’s The Pillowman, they got permission from McDonagh himself to cast the main character, a dark fantasy writer named Katurian, as a woman. The result is both powerful and mesmerizing.
The Pillowman, one of McDonagh’s earlier works along with The Beauty Queen of Leenane and A Skull in Connemara , opened on Broadway in 2005 at the Booth Theater. It starred Billy Crudup (from the film, “Almost Famous,”) and Jeff Goldblum (“Jurassic Park”).
Describing this twisted black comedy is a bit like explaining the anatomy of an elephant to a blind person; it’s all in one’s perspective. At first glance, one sees Katurian (played here by Rose Grizzell) sitting in an interrogation room. She is blindfolded and silent. The set (by Sarah Harris) is minimal: a desk, chair, and filing cabinet. Soon, two detectives walk in. They start barking questions at her. From their banter, one learns that they are living in an unnamed totalitarian state.
After a while, the senior detective, Tupolski (Jaime Jastrab) announces that he’s the “good cop.” Not that Katurian needs to be reminded of this, as she recently has been beaten by the other detective, Ariel (Rob Schreiner). She pleads her innocence: she is completely perplexed as to why they are questioning her.
Grizell’s appearance, as a short, slightly built young woman, heightens the audience’s concern for her welfare. The taller, beefier cops can do as they please with their suspect.
As the interrogation continues, Katurian slowly begins to understand their motives. They begin to ask her about a series of recent murders involving young children. The killer’s methods are chillingly like some of the fictional stories Katurian has written. In rebuttal, Katurian points out that she has written 400 stories (only one of which has been published), and most of them don’t contain any children. Still, the police detectives press on.
During her intense interrogation, Grizzell’s mood varies between terror and anger. Under Jaimelyn able Gray’s direction, Grizzell holds the audience’s attention throughout the overly long interrogation scene.
As for the two cops, Schreiner demonstrates a more consistent approach to his one-note character. Jastrab’s character is more challenging; he must walk a fine line between delivering dialogue that is either terrifying to Katurian, or lines that demonstrate glimpses of humor. Jastrab’s comic timing was a bit off on opening night; one suspects it will improve during the play’s run.
Not content to focus solely on Katurian, the police drag in Katurian’s cognitively impaired brother, Michal (Logan Milway). Suddenly, the protective Katurian becomes even more desperate. As she hears his screams coming from the next room, Katurian folds completely. She offers to say whatever the detectives want her to say. She will do anything to end her brother’s torture.
Later, when brother and sister are reunited in the same interrogation room, the play shifts into a whole different gear. Milway gives by far the most convincing performance in the cast as the half-witted brother. He plays the role with a charming innocence that is reminiscent of Lenny from Of Mice and Men.
Unable to fully understand the implications of their predicament, Michal asks his sister to soothe him by “telling stories.” Katurian agrees, in the full knowledge that both have only hours to live. (Revealing more of the plot would lessen the experience for those who have yet to see the play.)
Another theme at work here might be playwright Martin McDonagh’s own response to his own work. Like Katurian, McDonagh often slides towards mankind’s dark thoughts and deeds. He makes a case for delving into those dark corners of the mind as Katurian expresses an overwhelming yearning to save her stories. At one point, Katurian comments that “I think people write about what they know because they are too fucking stupid to make anything up.” Katurian’s stories (like McDonagh’s) take readers to a place where they may not want to go, perhaps because we are drawn to these weird and scary situations.
It’s fitting that The Constructivists have selected this macabre and bleak play to present on the cusp of Halloween. It may send shivers down audience’s spines, but it forces us to confront elements of our own inhumanity.
