The Birthday Party

Reviewed by Holly Bartges

Small talk can be annoying as it goes around in circles, does nothing, and goes nowhere. Neatly avoiding communication of any kind, small talk rattles lines of communication on an equal basis with radio or television static.

Terry Burnsed as Stanley and Erica Sarzin-Borrillo as Meg in The Birthday Party by Harold Pinter.

Unless, of course, the small talk leaps from the mind of playwright, Harold Pinter as in The Birthday Party joyously playing at Germinal Stage Denver. Here small talk shields a thinly caked layer of motivation, power, and control. Under the perceptive direction and design of Ed Baierlein, The Birthday Party collides a hilariously awesome cast with small talk shielding power and control, standing up to giggling laughability. I giggled and laughed out loud all the way through. That in itself speaks volumes for this fun loving production.

In actuality, there isn’t much to the plot. The plot itself almost doesn’t matter. It does give rhyme and reason for the hilarious characters to romp while the six actors bring them to astonishing life.

The Birthday Party had been scheduled to open May 4. Three days before the opening, David Fenerty who played McCann, fell and broke his hip. Good wishes for a speedy recovery in body, mind, and spirit flies to Boulder for an actor who was forced to not experience the fruit of his successful hard work.

The Birthday Party opened one week later on the 11th. In one week’s time Stephen R. Kramer stepped into McCann’s Irish drenched shoes as though he owned McCann. Pinter’s party plays through May 11. Would it could be extended one more week to provide this party with the full exposure it deserves.

Running a seedy boarding house, Petey and Meg remain content for the moment to have one guest, Stanley.

Joseph C. Wilson wears Stanley as though he lives in a dimension yet to be discovered. Erica Sarzin-Borrillo sets aside her elegant stance for the shuffling, ill dressed, unthinking, walking through a dazed maze, hair tangled on top of her head Meg.

Sitting at a table, thinking he hears a noise, Petey runs to the staircase to carefully listen. When he hears someone coming, he races back to the table to resume his paper reading. In a cloud of other worldliness, Meg finds a way to put one foot in front of the other lumbering down the stairs. Without expression, she looks at Petey stating the obvious, ÒOh, you’re backÓ. With the same expressioned espressionless tone, Petey confirms he is indeed back. Their conversation steamrolls through obvious small talk. She wants to know if Stanley, who she calls her boy, is up yet, complaining it is awfully late to serve breakfast. Complaining comes easy to Meg; complaining without emotion. Of course, he isn’t. She wants Petey to read the paper to her. She frets and worries over Stanley’s state of being, prattling small talk all the while. Sarzin-Borrillo’s deliberate antics of going into the kitchen for tea, placing the pot and tray in a window from the kitchen, coming out of the kitchen to retrieve the tray stands as a wondrous comedic moment of deliberate unthinking wasted steps while enormously hilarious. Fortunately, it is repeated several times.

As though walking in his sleep Stanley appears in slippers and pajamas. Unkempt depression swallows Stanley who at one time performed as a professional pianist. Played magnificently by Terry Burnsed, Stanley lives in a parallel universe yet to be discovered.

The well-defined characterizations are worth attention for every second of this three-act play from the simple repetition of words, to the large brush stroke of movement, to the minutest change of expression crisscrossing faces.

Lulu waltzes in dressed as though she walked into a Goodwill store in the dark and put on the first thing she touched, complete with white socks and saddle shoes. Oozing frivalous sex appeal, she throws herself at Stanley whose dense other worldliness doesn’t include her. Making her GSD debut, Luciana Lajoie does a splendid job captivating Lulu.

Guests will be arriving so proclaims Stanley. Who are they? He doesn’t know? When are they coming? He isn’t sure. The fact that they are coming turns Stanley into paranoid knots, as he rattles on about his history.

When no one is home, the two mysterious strangers Goldberg, (Baierlein) and McCann, (Kramer) enter. Goldberg dressed to the hilt noses around in stern confidence. McCann asks, “How do we know this is the right house” followed by, “I’m all right when I know what I’m doing,” his Irish brogue cutting through the air.

Who they are is never identified. They’ve been after Stanley for an undisclosed reason. Past felony, misdemeanor, transgression from some secret organization? Wielding power and authority is far more important than the reason why. When Petey and Meg return, Goldberg boldly announces there should be a party for Stanley. It’s his Birthday. Meg goes giddy over the idea, wondering what she should wear.

Goldberg stuffed with authority begins an outrageous interrogation of Stanley who doesn’t have a chance. The interrogation conducted in all seriousness consists of machine gun riveted nonsensical words. How to be ferocious and hysterically funny at the same time? Baierlein and Kramer handle that conundrum wonderfully through their dead serious tone and “twaddle” gibberishness. Reminds me of people I’ve known who waded up to their necks in authority forgetting why they had authority at all.

Hilarious funny slams into hilarious funny as the machine gun nonsense flips back and forth between Goldberg and McCann. Stanley melts into a blithering idiot, contoured wonderfully with Burnsed’s expertise.

Stanley insists it isn’t his Birthday, but no one listens. A toy drum becomes Meg’s present, which Stanley proudly marches around banging. The party turns raucous. Lulu finds Goldberg drunkenly responsive to her advances, while Meg cuddles up to McCann. Petey, away at work, misses out on the riotous raucous. Stanley still in his pajamas, suffering through paranoid trauma, locks the party out of his system pretending to play the piano on a tabletop. Meg’s choice of dress for the party is enough to send everyone to the floor. Outrageous doesn’t even come close.

Sallie Diamond designed the costumes, and she must have had more fun than a barrel of monkeys choosing the inappropriate appropriate.

Apparently, the interrogation continued after the party. Now spruced up, dressed in a suit, Stanley’s comprehension has been reduced to inarticulate noises. The only plans Goldberg and McCann reveal is taking Stanley to face the never identified Monty, a judge, a hit man, an agent, a psychiatrist or maybe just an overgrown Bully? Petey’s objections fade with threats on his life by the two men of mystery.

Meg slouches downstairs having great difficulty remembering the night before, wondering if Stanley is up yet, bemoaning the fact, once again, it is too late for breakfast.

The perpetual motion of contrasting expressions on all of the characters captivates and mesmerize painted with bright colors in minute detail. Because of word repetition, constant changing inflection, delivery speed, and outrageous characters, this is not an easy play to mount, and definitely doesn’t belong in the hands of novices. Perfected silliness demands perfected expertise. This cast has it, owns it, and delivers it.

With his rat-a-tat attack, Baierlein captures Goldberg’s authoritative power leaving any physicality needed to the oftentimes stoic McCann. In between the “laughtered” giggles, one can’t help but wonder about authority and power for the sake of authority and power often wielded by people in real life who have difficulty spelling the words much less know how to assume them.

The Birthday Party is a class act production, and should not be missed under any circumstances.