By David Gordon
Jean (Mary-Louise Parker) is quietly writing a letter at a deserted café when a ringing cell phone interrupts her. The phone’s owner, Gordon (T. Ryder Smith), is sitting quietly, Jean thinks, letting his cell phone ring. And ring. And ring. It’s only when Jean gets up and answers the phone that she realizes Gordon, sitting up and staring into nothingness, is stone-cold dead.
This begins “Dead Man’s Cell Phone,” a new play by Pulitzer finalist and MacArthur Genius Grant recipient Sarah Ruhl, now playing through March 23 at Playwrights Horizons. Jean keeps the cell phone, feeling it is her duty to answer its calls and keep Gordon’s memory alive, delivering odd comforts to his mother (Kathleen Chalfant), the wife he hated (Kelly Mauer), his gawky brother (David Aaron Baker) and his mysterious mistress (Carla Harding). In doing so, Jean is sucked into his not-so-attractive world, and on the way takes a trip to South Africa, with a pit stop in Hell, before returning home to Kansas.
Ruhl is known for the journeys on which she sends her characters. They are both emotional and physical-her Pulitzer finalist, “The Clean House,” sent a doctor to Alaska in search of a cancer-curing birch tree, while his doctor-wife cared for his dying mistress. In the second act, “Dead Man’s Cell Phone” sends Jean on the search for a kidney and Ruhl draws interesting comparisons on the physical need for a kidney, and the obsessive, emotional need for cell phones.
But that’s as profound as the play gets. Save for a scathing monologue criticizing cell phone users, and whether or not people walking down the street, screaming their personal details into their phones, are doing it to gain attention or think they’re alone, “Dead Man’s Cell Phone” doesn’t have much to say. Once everything is wrapped up neatly with a nice little bow, you leave feeling oddly dissatisfied.
It’s the cast that makes the play click. Emmy and Tony winner Mary-Louise Parker is delightful as Jean, the geeky mouse. Her characterization, truly defined down to even the slightest detail, makes the audience realize what a treat it is to see her on stage. The same goes for Tony nominee Kathleen Chalfant, who, with a single glare, gets the audience in the palm of her hand and never lets up. T. Ryder Smith is mesmerizing and menacing as Gordon, the unsavory dead man of the title. His monologue about the day he died at the top of the second act is nothing short of astounding (I don’t even think he blinked).
They are given ample support by their co-stars, Kelly Mauer, David Aaron Baker and Carla Harding, as well as Anne Bogart’s simple and fluidly staged minimalist production. There are few blackouts and a spare set by G.W. Mercier which consists almost solely of a large dining table that doubles as, among other things, the closet of a stationary store. His costumes are spare and appropriate as well. Brian H. Scott’s lighting is haunting and, with Darron L. West’s “soundscape,” an avalanche of ringing cell phones, steals the show.
Anne Bogart is known for her thought-provoking and experimental productions. Her staging delves deeply into the depths of religion and the meanings of death and life. Fortunately, with Ms. Parker and a great cast in tow, Bogart’s production of “Dead Man’s Cell Phone” ends up a sweet, unassuming night at the theater. And we need one of those every now and then.