Theatre in Review: Drinking in America (Audible Theater at Minetta Lane Theatre)

	Andre Royo. Photo: Jeremy Daniel

Drinking in America is less a play than a male bestiary, an acute study of the species known as homo horribilis in its reckless mid-1980s heyday. Written by Eric Bogosian as a vehicle for himself before he became a full-fledged playwright and busy film/TV character actor, it is parade of quick character sketches, some quite fragmentary and most linked to one form or addiction or another. The men on display are a venal, angry, self-destructive lot, forever in search of a quick high and utterly deluded about their self-worth. They include a street drunk fantasizing his life in a penthouse, an agent snorting coke and downing whiskey while working the phones at 9am, a traveling salesman pouring out his frustrations to a prostitute, and a voice actor flexibly modulating his tone for a commercial flogging the "king of beers."

To be sure, some of Bogosian's writing retains its black-hearted hilarity. That agent, trying to convincing an inattentive producer to forget about a certain actor who, falling off a boat, was devoured by a shark, finally snaps, "I'm sorry the fish ate the guy. Go talk to the shark. He's digested! He's not available!" A stressed-out business, pushing away his wife (or lover), accuses her of flirting with one of his rivals, adding, "What else could a girl want? Money, power, prestige, cocaine. I know what turns you on, Cheryl. I know because it's what turned you on about me in the first place." A heroin addict, describing his preferred method of getting high, says he wraps a necktie around his arm, adding, "My daughter gave it to me."

Clearly, Bogosian isn't one to look away when the going gets gritty. Still, a piece once described by Frank Rich as a "breakneck, hair-raising comic tour of the contemporary American male psyche," has lost a surprising amount of shock value. The passage of time has a role to play here: With references to Phil Donahue, Lee Marvin, Ricky Schroder, subway shooter Bernie Goetz, assassinated radio host Alan Berg, Larry Flynt, and Harvey Milk -- not to mention the Union Carbide disaster in Bhopal, India -- Drinking in America fully earns its status as a bulletin from another century. I wonder how many audience members under forty can identify even half of these. Also, the script has seemingly mellowed with time, possibly because Bogosian spawned many imitators -- Neil LaBute comes to mind -- who upped the ante on depictions of bad male behavior.

The casting of Andre Royo may also have something to do with it. The veteran of The Wire, recently seen to good effect in the dark-horse Oscar candidate To Leslie, is cattily amusing when pushing Richard Chamberlain, "one of the greatest, if not the greatest, American actors of our time!" on a client, and peerlessly sleazy when flattering his escort for the evening before casually requesting "a nice slow quick one." His handling of the beer commercial scene has the witty authority of lived experience. Still, several sequences fall flat, especially, a suburban husband's account of his perfectly commodified existence -- a piece that, in performance, Bogosian once gave an undertone of creeping unease. Tellingly, the centerpiece of the evening, the account of a drug-field joyride that climaxes in assault, arson, and hostage-taking, has lost much of its menace and laughter.

Overall, it's a solid production of a dated piece that may well please Royo's fanbase. In addition to providing uneven direction, Mark Armstrong has gotten good work from his designers. Kristin Robinson's spare set facilitates fast changeovers between scenes, opening up for a climactic sequence featuring a demagogic, antisemitic preacher (a once-daring oration that has been imitated to death). Jeff Croiter's lighting reinvents the space repeatedly with saturated color washes, chases, shadows, and flame effects. John Gromada provides preshow selections from James Brown and Grandmaster Flash along with a bevy of street sounds and other effects. Sarita Fellows has dressed the star appropriately.

This is the first time in my experience that Drinking in America has been performed by anyone other than its creator, and the results are certainly mixed. Audience members who have no experience with the material may be struck by its litany of provocations; others might appreciate its time capsule qualities. Rich also wrote that the show "leaves a hangover of outrage that a theatergoer can't easily shake." This time, however, no hangover; they're serving light beer at the Minetta Lane. --David Barbour