Passable Strangers

WE'RE ALL FRUSTRATED, mentally," bemoans one of the characters in Passing Strangers, an original musical production by undergraduate Andrew Berger. That is certainly true for the four individuals in this play, who languish under their feelings of alienation. But alienation is only the tip of the emotional iceberg. Although Berger occasionally dips below the surface to reveal his characters' motivations, in the end he leaves only the superficial impression of the iceberg's peak.

Throughout the drama, the "menage a quatre" acts and reacts against its own desires. The menage functions as a melange, not as a unit but a confused mixture. Leo (Grant Bue), a socially inept intellectual, craves but avoids physical fulfillment which Celeste (Susan Roffer) vainly offers. Meanwhile, Leo's old college roommate Todd (Jeffery Harper), formerly the campus wildcat, can only manage sexual flings. Groping to awaken Todd's emotions, Lynnette (Elizabeth Genovese) merely succeeds in using love to achieve her egoistic ends. The four characters remain estranged from themselves and their partners.

Berger raises some interesting questions but he provides few satisfactory answers. At first, he examines the problem of sustaining a relationship hindered by a lack of either physical or emotional commitment. Although they erect different defenses, Leo and Todd both fear involvement. After Leo and Celeste consummate their affair, they still maintain their distance from each other. And though Todd and Lynnette say "I love you," they refuse "to be in love." They pass like shadows through each other's lives, melding together but emerging with no signs of having touched.

Unfortunately, in the second act Berger stumbles, failing to maintain his revealing characterizations. He resolves his psychodrama in the most facile manner. Instead of continuing to explore Todd's and Leo's inability to handle a deep involvement, he introduces a new theme--their suppressed homosexuality. Just as they hide their feelings for women, they submerge their love for each other. The frustrated lovers transfer their apprehension about homosexuality to their heterosexual relationships. It is too easy a solution. The candle that emitted illuminating rays in the first act has burned down to leave only an amorphous mass of wax.

Still, this play's saving grace is Berger's witty, terse dialogue. One masterful confrontation occurs in Celeste's apartment, when she tries to seduce Leo (or rather, to encourage him to seduce her) with the help of wine and her pocket Freud. Berger shows the calculations and machinations of his characters. If Leo acts like a sexual automaton (he places his hand on Celeste's leg; she asks sharply, "What is that?"), Celeste reacts coldly with banal psychology in her analysis of Leo's childhood. Employing a more experimental approach, Berger tries his hand at Joyce an stream of consciousness in the sexual encounter between Todd and Lynnette. His use of monologue also shows originality, although it's not always dramatically appropriate.

Just as these monologues delineate his characters' isolation, so do the musical numbers. Except for a few company arrangements, the songs are solo exercises in the actors' self-examination. Additionally, Berger separates his music and dialogue; all of the numbers come between scenes. Most of the lyrics deal with life's enigmas, which Berger compares to items ranging from a leaf to a television set. While many verses contain cliches and predictable rhymes, "Next Time" and "What Do They Mean?" exhibit more interesting imagery. Though less memorable than the lyrics, the music, also written by Berger, maintains an agreeable tempo. Only the rocker "Do It Now" is hummable, probably because it sounds vaguely familiar. Bue's beautiful tenor carries his songs, but the rest of the company desperately needs voice lessons. Roffner sings powerfully but not pleasantly; Harper and Genovese lag off key more often than not.

The company's acting fails to compensate for its singing. Delivering his lines like an overgrown marionette, Bue alternates between timidity and sarcasm. Occasionally he introduces a British accent for variety. Harper's Todd is an improvement, although his lumberjack appearance detracts from the credibility of his role as a Don Juan. Many of his facial gestures grate after the hundredth repetition but he still performs convincingly as the hard-drinking stud. Genovese's constant head-tossing disturbs her acting, as does her whining intonation. Yet Roffner rescues much of the dialogue with her intuitive feel for timing, breaking easily through her stereotypical role as the professional sculptor/amateur psychiatrist.

Technical problems, resulting from the low budget of the production, bog down the action. Restricted to only one living room set and street clothes for costumes, the show becomes even more dependent on its actors. Genovese's clothes seem particularly incongruous, unless her white raincoat is intended to make an ironic comment on her lack of purity. In addition, Berger blocks clumsily; his actors often seem unsure where to position themselves. Evidently, because he authored the drama, he fails to separate himself from his characters.

While Berger's problem stems from his lack of distance, the characters barricade themselves from the audience. They never show their true faces; even the poster for Passing Strangers reveals only their silhouettes. Since they cannot communicate with themselves or others, they finally turn up emptyhanded and brokenhearted. The play's shallowness causes the audience to lose all empathy for it; herein lies the true tragedy of alienation.