Seattle theater troupe Azeotrope deftly handles Adam Rapp’s engrossing — and graphic — love triangle of a play, “Red Light Winter.”
by Misha Berson
Seattle Times theater critic
For its inaugural production, the new Seattle company Azeotrope Theatre sets a high bar — and meets it impressively.
The bar is Adam Rapp’s “Red Light Winter,” a bleak, wordy, sexually graphic and — in the grip of director Desdemona Chiang and her perspicacious cast — an engrossing, at times devastating, love-triangle drama.
“Love” is something of a misnomer here: the two 30ish characters seeking it are looking in all the wrong places. And the third character, also in his early 30s, seems incapable of it.
When we meet the anxiety-ridden Matt (Richard Nguyen Sloniker), a struggling playwright, he’s on the verge of suicide in a no-frills Amsterdam hotel room. Then his cocky friend and travel companion, Davis (Tim Gouran), a successful book editor, turns up with the beautiful prostitute Christina (Mariel Neto), retained to woo Matt out of his funk.
But little about the three-way encounter is what a more predictable (and upbeat) play would make of the setup. Rapp (a New York dramatist whose play “Welcome Home, Dean Charbonneau” was recently workshopped at Seattle Repertory Theatre) keeps switching things up.
Christina shifts identities (and outfits). The needy Matt misinterprets her intentions, and those of the self-serving Davis. And when the trio meet in Matt’s New York apartment a year later, it is no joyous reunion.
Rapp draws these people piteously, and his dialogue is au courant and shard-sharp. So are his swipes at the young and rootless who are out for kicks and cash, and/or caught up in delusions of boho romanticism (vis-a-vis Henry Miller, Edith Piaf, Tom Waits).
Rapp doesn’t give us much reason to connect with or care about these people. But in a production as attuned to every tension and torque in “Red Light Winter” as Azeotrope’s is, we can feel twinges of compassion for them.
Under Chiang’s astute direction, the acting here is gutsy throughout. Neto is the perfect chameleon — tough and pathetic, coy and vulnerable. She handles the full-frontal nudity and (audiences, FYI) the rough simulated-sex scenes with aplomb.
Sloniker gives a bravura performance as Matt, a super-bright and pathetically isolated guy. Delivering the rapid-fire monologues Matt uses to unload his perceptions and beat himself up can’t be easy. Sloniker dispatches them fluidly and meaningfully.
As for the reliable Gouran, he never flinches from the full ruthlessness and obnoxiousness of Davis — the most despicable character. And, sadly, the only one who really knows who he is.
http://seattletimes.com/html/thearts/2013334414_redlight02.html