STAGE REVIEW : A Powerful, Moving ‘Still Life’

Playwright Emily Mann’s “Still Life” is a still play. The Obie Award-winning script calls for a lot of talking, a few slide presentations and very little physical action. And the play’s three characters rarely move from their seats during the 100-minute show.

But the San Diego Repertory Theatre’s current production of “Still Life” is a powerful affair, full of passion and viability.

“Still Life” springs from interviews Mann conducted with three people dramatically affected by the Vietnam War. Shortly after the war was over, in 1978, Mann spoke to a combat veteran, his wife and his mistress about Vietnam’s impact on their lives, including their concepts of love, family and home.

Mann originally presented excerpts from her interviews in three separate monologues. She later spliced together the material garnered from the trio of characters and constructed a single flowing drama that was first produced in 1980. By intertwining these individual viewpoints, Mann deftly illustrates that their separate problems are interrelated.

“The war is the reason for all of our problems,” Cheryl (Darla Cash) says toward the end of the play. Indeed, but “Still Life” succeeds as a drama because Mann meticulously catalogues how the war created problems for these characters and why they have such difficulty overcoming their individual traumas.

Vietnam veteran Mark (Bill Maass) is the focal point of “Still Life.” He experienced the rigors of combat in Vietnam and learned to survive in the ruthless, lawless jungle. When Mark returned to America, he had difficulty adjusting to society’s rules and regulations. He vented his frustrations by brutalizing his wife physically and emotionally.

“I held the power over life and death (in Vietnam),” Mark says, attempting to justify his behavior. The root of Mark’s problems, the play suggests, is that he has significantly less control over his life in civilized society.

While Mark may seem like the cliche image of the troubled Vietnam vet, the play makes no attempt to generalize from the character. Instead, it focuses on the specific emotional dramas between him and the women in his life.

The two women in Mark’s post-war life--his wife Cheryl and his mistress Nadine (Anasa Briggs Graves)--react differently to Mark. Cheryl is frightened and confused by his changed behavior. Her naive, simple demeanor prevents her from understanding Mark’s struggle, and their relationship suffers continually. Nadine, meanwhile, is drawn to Mark’s fearlessness, passion and power. (We are never told whether he knew her before going to Vietnam, or how they met.)

The play tracks each character’s attempt to come to grips with the Vietnam experience. Mann offers no easy answers or pat solutions, she simply invites us into these three characters’ lives.

The performances are so textured and so believable that they don’t seem like performances at all. The three actors successfully create the illusion that they are actually being interviewed on stage.

Maass’ portrayal of the Vietnam veteran is full of honesty and passion. A Vietnam veteran himself, he relayed Mark’s war stories with concise, powerful bursts.

Maass is quietly confident and lets the words, rather than his expressions, communicate drama. “This belt is an artifact. I took it off a man I killed,” he says at one point without the slightest hint of hyperbole. Maass maintains a consistent, understated voice for Mark throughout.

Cash, a Rep regular, is utterly convincing as the beleaguered, dowdy wife Cheryl. Graves’ Nadine is similarly well-defined, and the actress provides the otherwise solemn staging with some welcome comic moments.

The Rep’s minimalist production design augments this play’s documentary feel. The only props on stage throughout the play are a table, three chairs, a slide projector and a screen. The barren set creates a frank, non-theatrical mood on stage, further encouraging the audience to “believe” that the three performers are not performing, but instead simply responding to questions. The stark, dynamic lights, designed by Diane Boomer and Douglas Jacobs, subtly accentuate the play’s emotional extremes.

The San Diego Repertory Theatre is presenting two productions that push the limits of theater in opposite directions. In the Lyceum Stage, playwright-composer Richard O’Brien’s “The Rocky Horror Show” is a raucous, rock concert of a play that fills the theater with explosions of light and sound.

A few feet away in the Lyceum Space, Emily Mann’s “Still Life” quietly implodes with a fascinating, understated passion.

“STILL LIFE”

By Emily Mann. Director is Douglas Jacobs. Production design consultant is Diane Boomer. Lights by Diane Boomer and Douglas Jacobs. Slides researched by Todd Salovey. Costumes coordinated by Joan T. Foster. Stage manager is Susan A. Virgilio. With Bill Maass, Darla Cash and Anasa Briggs Graves. At 8 p.m. Tuesdays-Saturdays, 2 and 7 p.m. Sundays, through June 29. Tickets are $19-$22. Lyceum Space, 79 Horton Plaza, downtown. 235-8025.