What, where or who is Tortuga? Sweet readers, I neither know nor care and neither need you. What bears discussing are the men thereof. Directed by Rick Snyder, the testoste.jpg)
rone-rich quintet ripping apart the stage (literally) in “Men of Tortuga” makes the lads of “Glengarry Glenn Ross” look like delicate hothouse flowers. OK, so maybe that’s stretching the point just a bit. “GGR” is in a league of its own when it comes to annihilating black humor in the company of men. But Profiles Theatre’s “Tortuga,” rises to that rarified level.
Which is to say, you could never do a female adaptation of “Tortuga.” At the risk of sounding rude and sexist – aw hell, never mind the risk, this is rude and sexist and also true –you do need a dick to behave like the characters playwright Jason Wells puts front and center in this brutally hilarious thriller. Much of the rapid-fire dialogue involves the size, shape and velocity of nuclear warheads, missiles and bullets. Metaphors all – and not for anything females are born equipped with. Throughout Wells’ intentionally murky story, Taggert, a weapons expert who “doesn’t officially exist” shows up to demonstrate methods of assassination. You half expect him to whip out a poison-tipped pole vault as this twisted tale escalates to deliriously wonderful heights of violence and absurdity.
Wells parcels out the story sparingly, keeping the audience on a need-to-know basis. It’s a method that works perfectly in creating an environment that’s at once profoundly ominous and patently ridiculous. At lights up, a group of men are gathered around the kind of luxe conference table that evokes the highest realms of corporate or political power. The conversation does nothing to dissuade that feeling. In staccato bursts, three men in impeccable suits and a fourth (who looks like he’s recuperating from a night on the town that lasted a week) reveal that they must to kill an “enemy.” In shards of sentences and carefully worded insinuations, the men in suits reveal themselves to be fellows of truly awesome and frightening power. The other guy? He’s got the practical knowledge to make their deadly schemes come true.
Director Snyder brilliantly highlights the contrast between the scary, world-ending power these men wield and the fact that they’re all basically asshats. Essentially, the entire production is a stark reminder dickweedery knows no bounds – it crosses class and power lines with the ease of an alcoholic relapsing an open bar. Watch for the scene wherein Taggert, the scruffy weapons specialist, plaintively insists he needs “a nice suit” to do his job correctly. It devolves into a school-yard brawl among 12-year-olds who happen to be in their 30s.
The casting is ideal. As Taggert, Darrell W. Cox has a manic gleam in his eyes and – when displaying ingenious new ways of killing people - the pride of a first grader who has just finished his first chapter book. (Watch his reaction when a structural flaw is revealed in his machete-cum-brief-case. It’s cross between the righteous tantrum of a little kid and the shocked hurt of a puppy who’s just been kicked in the stomach.)
Then there’s Fred A. Wellisch as Tom Avery (if that is his real name), a fellow who goes all Dr. Phil on everyone every time the conversation comes back to the point that assassination involves actual death. Equally good is Jack McCabe’s Kit Maxwell (i.t.i.h.r.n.). With a scowl like a hatchet and a fish-eye stare designed for maximum intimidation, he’s determined to end his career with a bang. Or at least, with a machete opening up the jugular of his enemy. Pay heed to Kit’s theories on the Puritan witch-hunting craze. They reveal truths both horrible and amusing.
As Jeff Kling (ditto the earlier parentheticals), Todd Lahrman is delightfully obnoxious a man who has had way too much caffeine to be helping to mastermind a murder. And his debate with Tag about Judas and Jesus in Gethsemane will come as an eye-opener for even the most advanced Biblical scholars.
Finally, Eric Burgher’s Alan Fletcher is a precariously sober recovering alcoholic who has no business being in the room with this ruthless, clueless crew.
Snyder’s next directing project is “Art” at the Steppenwolf, where he’s an ensemble member. We are so there.
“Men of Tortuga” continues through Dec. 7 at Profiles Theatre, 4147 N. Broadway, Chicago. Tickets are available by calling 773/549-1815 or by clicking here.
Photo by Maryann Carlson: Darrell W. Cox (clockwise from left), Fred A. Wellisch, Todd Lahrman, Eric Burgher and Jack McCabe (seated).
Comments