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34 CHICAGO READER | AUGUST 26, 2005 | SECTION ONE Theater By Justin Hayford W hen I saw David Mamet’s original New York staging of The Cryptogram ten years ago, it was such an excruciating experience I couldn’t get out of my seat for several minutes after the final blackout. None of the three pro- ductions I’ve seen since, includ- ing this one, has matched the intensity of Mamet’s own clipped, brittle hour-long version. Even Steppenwolf ’s intelligent, deeply felt 1996 production, directed by Mamet protege Scott Zigler, took most of the opening 25-minute scene to establish the play’s stakes. The same problem ham- pers Frank Pullen’s production at Stage Left for the Journeymen— but it’s about the only weakness in this engrossing, disturbing show. Once again I felt my legs knocked out from under me, this time by the Journeymen’s focused, vulnerable cast, led by brooding 14-year-old Jack Donahue. It reportedly took Mamet 15 years to finish the semiautobio- graphical script, which depicts the relentless, irreversible abandon- ment of a ten-year-old boy, John, by his errant father and trauma- tized mother. A tense, manicured howl of a play, The Cryptogram is set in a suburban Chicago living room in 1959, the year Mamet was 11. As it opens John can’t sleep—a problem he faces in all three of the play’s extended scenes, the second of them a night later and the last a month after that—perhaps because he’s so excited about the camping trip he’s supposed to be going on with his father, Robert, the next day. His mother, Donny, is making tea in the offstage kitchen, hoping it will settle the boy’s nerves, though she talks through the door with her friend Del, an effete man half- heartedly attempting to connect with the talkative John. After a few minutes the teapot suddenly shatters offstage, the first of sever- al indications—the late hour, the absence of John’s father, John’s precocious ruminations on imper- manence and uncertainty—that something is seriously wrong. In Mamet’s production the sense of trouble was palpable Little Boy Blue An adolescent actor nails David Mamet’s grim take on the end of childhood. THE CRYPTOGRAM JOURNEYMEN AT STAGE LEFT THEATRE The Cryptogram Bnkkdfd oqdo‘q‘snqx dctb‘shnm rhmbd 0804 Itmhnq Jhmcdqf‘qsdm sgqntfg Fq‘cd 01 Hmrohqhmf Dwbdkkdmbd Bdkdaq‘shmf Hmchuhct‘khsx 53/ Khmbnkm Rsqdds+ Du‘mrsnm vvv-qnxbdlnqdrbgnnk-nqf 736,755,5/44 Qnxbdlnqd Rbgnnk $20,000 REWARD For information leading to the arrest and conviction of person/ persons responsible for the robbery and murder of Kent Projansky on December 18, 2004 at 1130 North Dearborn in Chicago. Please call 312-744-8261 All calls will be kept confidential.

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34 CHICAGO READER | AUGUST 26, 2005 | SECTION ONE

Theater

By Justin Hayford

W hen I saw DavidMamet’s original NewYork staging of The

Cryptogram ten years ago, it wassuch an excruciating experience Icouldn’t get out of my seat forseveral minutes after the finalblackout. None of the three pro-ductions I’ve seen since, includ-ing this one, has matched theintensity of Mamet’s own clipped,brittle hour-long version. EvenSteppenwolf ’s intelligent, deeplyfelt 1996 production, directed byMamet protege Scott Zigler, tookmost of the opening 25-minutescene to establish the play’sstakes. The same problem ham-pers Frank Pullen’s production atStage Left for the Journeymen—but it’s about the only weakness

in this engrossing, disturbingshow. Once again I felt my legsknocked out from under me, this time by the Journeymen’sfocused, vulnerable cast, led by brooding 14-year-old JackDonahue.

It reportedly took Mamet 15years to finish the semiautobio-graphical script, which depicts therelentless, irreversible abandon-ment of a ten-year-old boy, John,by his errant father and trauma-tized mother. A tense, manicuredhowl of a play, The Cryptogram isset in a suburban Chicago livingroom in 1959, the year Mametwas 11. As it opens John can’tsleep—a problem he faces in allthree of the play’s extendedscenes, the second of them a night

later and the last a month afterthat—perhaps because he’s soexcited about the camping triphe’s supposed to be going on withhis father, Robert, the next day.His mother, Donny, is making teain the offstage kitchen, hoping itwill settle the boy’s nerves, thoughshe talks through the door withher friend Del, an effete man half-heartedly attempting to connectwith the talkative John. After afew minutes the teapot suddenlyshatters offstage, the first of sever-al indications—the late hour, theabsence of John’s father, John’sprecocious ruminations on imper-manence and uncertainty—thatsomething is seriously wrong.

In Mamet’s production thesense of trouble was palpable

Little Boy BlueAn adolescent actor nails David Mamet’s grim take on the end of childhood.

THE CRYPTOGRAM JOURNEYMEN AT STAGE LEFT THEATRE

The Cryptogram

$20,000 REWARDFor information leading

to the arrest and conviction of person/

persons responsible for the robbery and murder of

KentProjansky

on December 18, 2004 at 1130 North Dearborn

in Chicago.

Please call 312-744-8261All calls will be kept confidential.

CHICAGO READER | AUGUST 26, 2005 | SECTION ONE 35

from the scene’s openingmoments: the actors who playedDonny and Del, Felicity Huffmanand Ed Begley Jr., understoodthat their characters’ superficialchatter covered an abyss. Delknows exactly where Robert isand that he’s never coming back,because he helped arrangeRobert’s departure in a patheticattempt to assert his own atro-phied masculinity. Donny won’tdiscover the finality of her hus-band’s absence until the end ofthe scene, when John finds anote his father left for her, butgiven the regularity of Robert’s“late nights at the office,” sheknows there’s a crisis brewing.Pullen’s actors, however—Shannon O’Neill and Daniel E.Brennan—communicate these

underlying truths only halfwaythrough the scene, which makesfor a flabby opening, equal partsintrigue and idleness, thatstretches the play to an unfortu-nate 90 minutes. Although the

actors regu-larly tap intothe ominousundercur-rent—Donny’s fum-blingattempts toput on abrave face are

particularly effective—they don’tconvey the pervasive sense ofdread that’s needed to unify thesplintered dialogue.

Donahue, on the other hand,immediately conveys a keen

awareness of the chasm openingbeneath the boy’s feet. And trueto Mamet’s exacting style, hecommunicates this awarenessindirectly. Stone-faced and dis-tracted, he fiddles with one thingafter another, walks in circles, orstares into the air as if hearingvoices. He fixates on the totemicobjects Mamet puts in John’sway—an old stadium blanket, toysoldiers, his father’s army knife—while unleashing a barrage ofdisquieting questions. Yet henever connects with anything oranyone. As the adults begin toretreat into coded languageintended to protect him, John isleft increasingly alone, strandedwith emotions he can’t compre-hend. With hardly a facialexpression or change in vocal

inflection, Donahue makes itclear by the end of the scene thathis character is on the way tobeing terrifyingly lost.

As the play progresses andJohn becomes more and morebewildered, Donahue’s under-standing of the character onlydeepens, and he delivers a per-formance that’s almost toopainful to watch. Brennan andO’Neill follow his lead in thefinal two scenes, plunging intoThe Cryptogram’s harrowingdepths as Donny and Del beginto tear each other to shreds.Occasionally they push too hardto squeeze dark comedy from theplay’s more absurd moments,perhaps in an effort to givethemselves and the audiencesome relief from the bleak mate-

rial. But Pullen’s productiondelivers a debilitating wallop bythe end, once Del confesses thefull extent of his betrayal toDonny, she abandons her son,and John marches upstairs withan unsheathed knife.

It’s rare that adults must rise tothe level of a child actor, butDonahue is a singular talent in ademanding role that reveals hisskill. Diminutive and childlike,he’s able to portray a ten-year-oldconvincingly, yet at 14 he can givethe role a psychological fullness Ididn’t see in other, youngeractors. Looming adolescencemakes his performance all themore poignant: like John’s erod-ing sense of security, Donahue’sability to bring this character tolife will soon be gone. v

WHEN Through 9/10:Thu-Sat 8 PM, Sun 3and 7 PMWHERE Stage LeftTheatre, 3408 N.SheffieldPRICE $10-$15INFO 773-857-5395