I just got back from Miami Beach and its justifiably famous seashore, but even there the sands aren’t as white and inviting as the sand on Michael McGarty’s set for By the Sea, By the Sea, By the Beautiful Sea. McGarty even gives us a starlit night backdrop to complete the picture of an idyllic beachscape where three unrelated one-acts, all directed by Leonard Foglia, all featuring Timothy Carhart, Lee Brock, and Mary Beth Fisher, take place.
Trying to pack too much emotional punch into its half hour, Joe Pintauro’s Dawn is one of the few plays in recent memory that would benefit from being longer. Consider it a tribute to Pintauro’s facility (similar to Terrence McNally’s) at creating intense, even moving, drama out of simple situations. Here, Pat and Quentin, brother and sister, fight over scattering mama’s ashes while the sister-in-law Veronica looks on as a vulnerable third party. Forced by Pat (Fisher) to justify his marriage, Quentin’s speech in Veronica’s defense is an absolutely gorgeous piece of writing—and would be devastating if we had a little more build-up for all three characters.
Most satisfyingly plotted of the evening’s one-acts is Lanford Wilson’s Day, which begins with the seemingly innocuous flirtation between an easy-going construction worker (Carhart) and a seductive lady on the beach (Brock). When Ace’s yenta wife (Fisher) returns, we expect a verbal catfight, but Wilson adds a sly twist that makes us see both women in a different light.
Terrence McNally’s Dusk caps the evening in a strained, rather phony style, as two women do, indeed, catfight over a cocky freespirit. Dusk does pick up on the theme, examined in McNally’s Lisbon Traviata and Love! Valour! Compassion!, of people confronting their mortality by grasping at a physically attainable, but emotionally unreachable, sex object. But there’s neither fun, nor satirical weight, to watching these women behave like ninnies over their not-terribly-obscure object of desire.
Of the three performers, Lee Brock surprises the most, going from shrillness in Day to vulnerability in Dusk. Her splendid (and splendidly displayed) physique is an asset to both Day and Dusk. Mary Beth Fisher fares better with grown sultriness than childish teasing. Though a tad lightweight for the melodrama of <Dawn, Timothy Carhart does fine as the honorable lug of Day and the grown lifeguard of Dusk.
Three fine writers, two fine plays, sand, stars, no jellyfish, and blissful air conditioning—why hit the beach when you can spend the afternoon on the sands of MTC?
