A Campo Santo and Intersection presentation of a play by Denis Johnson in three acts. Directed by Nancy Benjamin.
Granny Black/Nurse Vandermere/Bess
Cassandra - Catherine Castellanos
Sylvester/Will Blaine - Cully Fredricksen
HT/Dr. Nasum - Donald E. Lacy Jr.
Bus Driver 2/Jan/Stevie - Alexis Lezin
Masha - Delia MacDougall
Bus Driver 1/Stacy - Marcie Prohovsky
Bill Jenks - Brian Keith Russell
John Cassandra - Michael Torres
Clerk - Liam Vincent
Simon/Jerry - Danny Wolohan
"Soul of a Whore" is the last and most accomplished entry in novelist turned playwright Denis Johnson's loose trilogy of stage dramas penned for S.F.'s Campo Santo. Rambling, digressive tenor of prior two ("Hellhound on My Trail," "Shoppers Carried by Escalators Into Flames") is somewhat disciplined if not quite eradicated here, resulting in a long evening that's consistently intriguing -- even if, once again, the overall point remains murky.
Sprawling three-act narrative commences with an hourlong scene in a Greyhound depot, in Huntsville, Texas, just across the street from a state penitentiary. Exuberantly trashy Masha (Delia MacDougall) has just run away -- again -- from her job of ill repute at a strip joint and is holding a series of payphone conversations with her erstwhile employer.
Her conniptions attract flirtatious interest from Bill Jenks (Brian Keith Russell), an alleged holy healer just sprung from four months served for embezzlement; Bill's recent cellmate, HT (Donald E. Lacy Jr.), a loud, pimp-styled double murderer on the lam after breaking parole; likewise newly freed John Cassandra, who's used his state-issued $50 to buy a life-sized crucifix, intending to pray for his mother left behind on Death Row; a deadpan station clerk (Liam Vincent); a senile old lady (Catherine Castellanos); and others.
Often inspirationally funny, albeit too garrulous and attenuated, this long first sequence builds in collective hysteria until Bill performs an emergency exorcism -- Masha, it seems, is temporarily harboring a transient demon. Before fleeing, latter entity prophesies three things for Bill: He'll soon "meet his mirror"; he'll "raise the dead"; and "see an innocent killed" just as he himself is dying.
Naturally, these predictions come true in the following two acts, and said demon continues to surface in other characters, seemingly bent on following Jenks' every move. The absurdist circus that unfolds has physically disastrous (yet possibly soul-cleansing) consequences for all.
"Soul" does have its themes -- capital punishment, desire, faith, redemption -- though as usual Johnson's situations are so wayward and his characters so eccentric that gleaning a precise authorial stance on any of them is well nigh impossible. As in his published fiction, narrative structure is a secondary concern here. More important are the vivid details, unexpected tonal shifts, moral ambiguities and shaggy-dog jokes scattered throughout. Like a somewhat less focused version of prime Sam Shepard plays, "Soul" intrigues with its over-the-top characterizations and their jumping through nonstop hoops of gallows humor, tragedy, lust and near-surrealism.
All these unstable elements are calibrated about as well as they could be in Nancy Benjamin's production. The excellent cast manages to cohere even while playing in all kinds of different modes, with Castellanos a standout in her widely disparate three parts and MacDougall even more so as Masha, a woman whose bearing and station in life changes drastically each time we see her.
James Faerron's principal set device of three variably sized, movable mini-prosceniums works well in refiguring the space for each scene locale. Other design contribs are resourceful.
Sets, James Faerron; costumes, Suzanne Castillo; lighting, Jim Cave; sound, Drew Yerys. Opened, reviewed Feb. 24, 2003. Running time: 2 HOURS, 50 MIN.
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Date in print: Fri., Mar. 21, 2003