Fringe ’09: The Doctor and the Devils

Just like London had Jack the Ripper, Edinburgh had Burke and Hare. Technically, they were grave-robbers, but the higher compensation paid for fresh bodies created obvious homicidal incentives. While it could not be more different in tone from his better known works (like A Child’s Christmas in Wales), their story would inspire The Doctor and the Devils, Dylan Thomas’s play originally conceived for the screen, which the Rag ‘N Bone Theatre Company has revived during this year’s FringeNYC.

Burke and Hare, whom Thomas renames Fallon and Broom, still sell corpses to the good Dr. Rock (in place of the historical Dr. Robert Knox), with no questions asked. After all, their victims are riff-raff, whose disappearance (and eventual dissection) is unlikely to raise much concern. However, despite the rigid social structures of the time, Rock’s apprentice, Mr. Murray, is somewhat familiar with their world through his relationship with the prostitute Jennie Bailey, which leads to complications.

Doctor is uncharacteristic of Thomas’s oeuvre, focusing on the desperate living conditions faced by the notorious resurrectionists. Yet, while there might be clear social implications to Thomas’s play, the tenor of Rag ‘N Bone’s production is far more surreal than naturalistic. Daniel Balkin’s adaption and direction often evokes the feeling of a fever dream through montage-like sequences of murdering, grave-robbing, drunkenness, and Rock’s zealous university lectures. Particularly eerie is his use of Thomas’s morbid nursery rhyme: “Fallon and Broom sell bones and meat, Fallon’s the butcher, Broom’s the thief, And Rock’s the boy who buys the beef.”

At times the staging is so stylized it keeps the audience somewhat emotionally removed from the characters on stage. However, Abdel Gonzalez, looking much like a hulking Ron Perlman, gives a remarkable performance humanizing the fearsome Fallon, showing the vulnerable man buried inside the monster. Likewise, Madeline Blue (whose credits include The Sopranos) brings vitality and likability to the ill-fated Jennie Bailey.

Doctor is a philosophical production, where the classic question whether the end justifies the means is debated from several perspectives. In his hubris, Rock’s end is no less than the salvation of mankind through medical research. For Fallon, Broom, and their social circle, the end goal is mere economic survival.

Technically well-mounted, Doctor uses its sparse set and moody lighting quite effectively. Though the accompanying music is often jarringly contemporary, it still contributes to the unsettling atmosphere. Thoughtful and macabre, it is certainly a distinctive night of theater. It runs through Sunday at Milagro Theatre as part of Fringe Festival.

Dylan Thomas: The Edge of Love

New York is the proud home of the White Horse Tavern, world famous as the site of Dylan Thomas’s last round of cheer. While the Welsh poet had quite the reputation for imbibing spirits, alcoholism is the least of his flaws in a new bio-picture. Opening tomorrow in New York, John Maybury’s Edge of Love (trailer here) is a highly unflattering portrait of a hopelessly self-absorbed individual, who also happened to be a great poet.

As Edge opens, World War II is raging, but not for Thomas. Sharman MacDonald’s screenplay clearly implies he is shirking his duty through a dubious medical deferment. He is also a neglectful father, unfaithful husband, and a selfish, petty man. From this starting point, he only becomes less sympathetic as the film progresses.

A chance encounter with his childhood sweetheart rekindles Thomas’s affections for the beautiful Vera Philips, played by Keira Knightley. Unfortunately, he is already married to Caitlin (portrayed by Sienna Miller), who provides their child some measure of parental supervision, when not pursuing her own affairs. The Thomases invite Philips into their lives, with both harboring some sort of attraction to her. However, it is Captain William Killick who wins her reluctant heart, only to leave shortly after their wedding for a Hellish tour of duty behind enemy lines in Greece.

Married just long enough to get pregnant, Philips (now Killick) moves back to Wales, living next door to the Thomases, supporting their wastrel lifestyle with Killick’s money, while mostly deflecting their advances—though the distributor would surely like to point out that Knightley and Miller have a scene bathing together. When the shell-shocked Captain comes home, his condition is aggravated by the vicious village gossip, which eventually pushes him past his breaking point.

As Killock, Cillian Murphy is quite nuanced, preventing the Captain from coming across as a stereotypical crazed veteran. Frankly, when he finally snaps, the audience is ready to see the egotistically Thomas and his snobbish radio colleagues get the beat-down they deserve. They sneer at concepts like patriotism and service from the relative safety of the countryside, while Killick witnessed the horrors of war first hand. It is when Edge dramatizes such differences of values that it is at its sharpest.

The ethereal Knightley also has some fine moments, particularly early in the film, revealing a hitherto unknown singing talent. Her performances of sweetly sentimental big band vocals are surprisingly enjoyable and the somewhat jazz-influenced soundtrack by Angelo Badalamenti (best known for his work on Twin Peaks) is often appealingly breezy. Unfortunately, Matthew Rhys is rather flat and charmless as the difficult Thomas, which leads to considerable credibility problems for the film.

Co-produced by BBC Films, Edge is sort of a cross between Masterpiece Theater and an HBO original drama, but it is probably too racy for PBS, while not showing enough skin for premium cable. Despite a problematic lead performance, Edge has some diverting moments, certainly including Knightley’s musical numbers. It opens tomorrow in New York at the Angelika.