Religion and mawkishness make for strange bedfellows in ‘Art and Science’
A BITTER PILL | Adam (Christopher Cassarino) tries to convince his mentor (David Benns) to seek medical attention, with limited success, in Uptown Players’ premiere ‘Art and Science.’ (Photo by Mike Morgan)
Robert (David Benn) is one of those older-generation gay men, now in his twilight, who came of age when being out was virtually unheard of — the kind who says “lover” and “homosexual” because he’s never felt totally comfortable in his own skin, and who probably has internalized his homophobia subtly. He’s never felt totally worthy.
Adam (Christopher Cassarino), a former student of Robert, has his own issues. He stayed too long in an unsupportive relationship, and now that he’s with a new man and on the brink of settling down, he’s having second thoughts.
The two haven’t seen each other in years when, in July of 1995, Adam shows up on Robert’s doorstep to patch up old wounds. But things take a turn when Robert suddenly suffers a stroke, and Adam can’t convince his mentor — who, as a follower of Mary Baker Eddy’s Christian Science, does not believe in modern medicine — to go to the hospital.
Art and Science, getting its world premiere in the upstairs Frank’s Place at the Kalita Humphreys, is as sincere as a play can get, and (sad to say) sincerity can be deathly dull onstage. It plays like a “very special episode” of a bad sitcom — in fact, I think I saw the same plot on The Facts of Life.
That’s probably because the author, James Wesley, is too close to the material. A note in the program says it was based on Wesley’s relationship with his own mentor, but you could probably guess without reading that — there’s a lot of unspoken background here, which is probably meant to seem like backstory but instead plays like awkward motivations without developing true dramatic tension. Most lines of dialogue sound either like judgments or scolds, and the lame jokes and trite situations don’t help much. (When Adam spills a glass of water on Robert, he notes, “You’re all wet;” you can write the limp retort yourself.) When it’s not being catty, it comes off as merely frantic.
New plays often need work to smooth over their rough spots, and Art and Science is in desperate need of a dramaturg, but also could use a better director. Jason St. Little allows everything to unfold with an appalling lack of energy — Kabuki without the formalism. Preachy discussions of religion could feel more powerful with a better staging, or even some thoughtful design elements, which this lacks (the lighting design is flat, the set ugly, the props random and unconvincing).
Cassarino, in his live theater debut, is a better actor than the script permits, but Benn is a black hole of emotion; I’ve seen more interesting strokes on a children’s Putt-Putt golf course. He contributes to the overall vibe of amateurishness that taints the production.
This article appeared in the Dallas Voice print edition June 6, 2014.
