Regional Reviews: Connecticut and the Berkshires Regional Reviews by Fred Sokol Dancing Lessons Also see Zander's review of Proof
Let us view the proceedings through Senga's eyes. She lives to dance and has done so on Broadway. Now, however, she has severely torn two ligaments in her knee and, for medical reasons, surgery, it seems, is unlikely. Bitter, she sits in her Manhattan studio apartment, listens to tunes which upset her, and eats chips. She grew up with her aunt, having lost both of her parents, and a recent relationship with a man is pretty much over. Isolating herself on her worn futon, she wishes to keep it that way. No wonder she later says, "My whole life is a lie. I'm a dancer who cannot dance." She also admits that she would like one good friend rather than a slew of acquaintances. Living in the same building is Ever, a professor of geosciences who is soon to receive a significant award at a dinner and needs, quickly, to learn how to dance. He has done some research and, with persistence, feels he can convince Senga to instruct him and this should enable him to dance at the upcoming evening. Andrew Benator is a distinctive Ever. A wiry and compact man, he shows, at first, a hard exterior and brings a recognizable New York accent. Ever knows who he is and explains to Senga that autistic people are not alike, that they cannot sleep ("I average four hours a night"), and that he does not function as do neurotypical humans. As Dancing Lessons evolves, Senga welcomes, listens to, and anticipates the arrival of Ever at her door. She takes notice that he works mightily to become neurotypical. TheaterWorks' space is cozy. Anyone, before curtain, is free to stroll up to the stage and see the many pills Senga takes perched on the coffee table, her garments hanging upstage, and the partially hidden kitchen. Brian Prather's set is detailed and exact. Many of the scenes are quick winners. When Senga first attempts to have Ever execute basic dance moves, herky-jerky Benator is hilarious. Later, when it appears that they just might touch one another, the actors are specific and unhurried. Boyd's direction is pivotal during these moments. The show is enriched by many images, some panorama-like, and these are displayed precisely by Andrew Bauer. Christine O'Grady provides neat choreography. All of the production elements assist. Senga is burdened (with a wondrous exception) by the type of clunky, restrictive leg brace any dancer or athlete abhors. Davis's limp speaks volumes, and this actress, who has actually danced in many a musical, has perfected her movement. The television presence for "Trading Spaces," she is quite special as the lonely, wanting Sengaa woman who is actually filled with spirit, energy, and affection. Benator, who has appeared a number of times at TheaterWorks, breathes multi-dimension into Ever, trapped for much of his life within his Asperger's predicament. He is terrified to emerge but wants something more, an existence which could include a woman. That eventuality is monumentally daunting. Mark St. Germain is a dialogue writer par excellence. Within these 90 minutes, he creates ever-enduring characters who are appealing and sympathetic. The tender chemistry Davis and Benator create is lovely to behold. This is a play with depth, emotion, and reams of warmth. Dancing Lessons continues at TheaterWorks in Hartford through March 1st, 2015. For tickets, call (860) 527-7838 or visit www.theaterworkshartford.org.
- Fred Sokol |