The Banyan Theater Company is only two seasons old, and already it's distinguished itself with consistently strong acting. Say what you will about the plays that Banyan has offered — from deserving classics like Don Juan in Hell and Hedda Gabler to more dubious works like The Lion in Winter and Rough Crossing. The troupe can always be depended upon to bring us first-class performances by actors as good as this region has to offer. And that group of actors is still growing. After early productions that depended heavily on Tessie Hogan and V Craig Heidenreich, Banyan has recently introduced us to such fine performers as Matt Bradford Sullivan, Crislyn V'Soske, Stephen Johnson and Rob Houle.
This dedication to top thespians isn't as inevitable as it seems. I can think of two other relatively new companies on Florida's West Coast that started out committed to an erratically skilled pool of actors — and several years later are still casting from this limited (and limiting) group.
Dedication to fine acting means a willingness to ignore all other connections — including friendship — and to give the nod only to artists equal to the task. It's an attitude that may be unpopular with lesser talents, but it's a winner with audiences, and it sells tickets.
Now Banyan has done it again: The four actors in Arthur Miller's The Price are so good that one can't help but be grateful for this company's high standards. Steven Clark Pachosa, David S. Howard, Stephen Johnson and Melliss Kenworthy are the luminaries at Sarasota's Sainer Pavilion, and they're shedding a lot of light on this oddly shaped play.
In fact, the acting makes it clear that The Price is really two plays, the first a lighthearted comedy, the second a psychological drama of the utmost seriousness. Howard, as the comic used-furniture dealer Gregory Solomon, dominates the hilarious Act One, just as Pachosa and Johnson, as estranged brothers Victor and Walter Franz, prevail in solemn Act Two. This bifurcation is no strength. The Price can in no way compare with Miller's better-constructed masterpieces, Death of a Salesman and The Crucible. However, one of the virtues of the Banyan troupe's acting is that it allows us to truly experience the play, unusual architecture and all. Watching this Price, you feel that you're in touch with Miller, with his vision and inspiration, however unusual. That's a wonderful sensation — and only possible because these actors have such command of their material. It would be difficult to present a more authentic Price than this one.
The plot of the play doesn't really get going until Act Two. In Act One we meet Victor (Pachosa) and Esther Franz (Kenworthy), who've come to the attic room of a Manhattan brownstone to sell the Franz family's used furnishings. We learn that Victor's a financially struggling policeman and that his brother Walter is a wealthy, successful surgeon whom Victor hasn't seen in 16 years. Soon Victor and Esther are joined by cagey, comic old furniture dealer Solomon (Howard), who hems and haws and puts off naming a price for the attic's contents until the last moment. Then, just as the act ends, Walter Franz (Johnson) arrives.
Blackout; intermission; and when the lights come up again, the play's no longer about the price of used furniture. Now it's all about Victor and Walter, the reasons for their separation, their conflicting versions of history. Victor believes that, when his father went bankrupt, it was his own struggles that kept the poor man alive. Walter believes that the old man was never really poor, and that he malevolently exploited Victor's generosity. Walter tries to help Victor, but Victor's reluctant to accept any help that might require him to let go of his anger at his brother. After all, Walter abandoned Victor and their father. And if the assertion that their father had money is true — if the man didn't need rescuing, then wasn't Victor's life wasted? Are there some truths we simply can't afford to believe?
The actors make it riveting. First, Howard as Solomon is terrifically ambiguous, never letting on whether he's a doddering old fool or a brilliant tactician whose most powerful weapon is his apparent decrepitude. As Victor, Pachosa is earnest and peace loving, yet somehow naive. He's the honest cop, the trustworthy Boy Scout, the loving son who stood by his father when everyone else was ready to abandon him. Johnson's Walter is no simple foil; he's a convert to compassion, a former bastard who has survived a nervous breakdown and now wants to believe that the past can be solved by genuine contrition and good intentions. And finally, Kenworthy as Esther is outspoken, independent-minded, in love with her husband but keenly aware of his flaws.
Director Jonas Jurasas knows just how to keep his contributions in the background, as these four strong characters seem as natural on stage as if we were watching them in real life.
Speaking of reality, Jeffrey Dillon and Karle H. Murdock provide us with a wonderfully real, wonderfully cluttered attic, featuring up-ended chairs, a grandfather clock, a harp, a divan, various chests of drawers and an armoire. Finally, David Covach's costumes, from Victor's uniform to Walter's three-piece suit, are just right. In fact, the only design element that doesn't quite work is some music that plays, a little jarringly, in mid-Act Two. This reminder of theatrical "art" only interferes with the production's realism.
And of course the art of realism is in the masking of artifice. Watching these four actors — Howard, Pachosa, Johnson and Kenworthy — you don't think about technique, or style or expertise. No, you're too busy enjoying the stories Miller tells, and the personalities he's invented. This is splendid acting and just another example of the quality Banyan has brought us since its inception.
A company that only fields the best actors: That's something to be glad about.
And that's also the reason, after only two seasons, Banyan has already become indispensable.
Performance Critic Mark E. Leib can be reached at mark.leib@weeklyplanet.com or 813-248-8888 ext. 305.
This article appears in Aug 21-27, 2003.