By Delia Paunescu

Mass media is no longer a novelty; it is a way of life. Everyday, we are bombarded with images of reality television – seeing ourselves (or those who are supposed to portray us) on television, magazines, film screens and now, youTube.

But in a new play, which opened on Broadway this past weekend, we are asked to think of a period before Time Magazine named the collective “You” as its person of the year. Talk Radio was written by performance artist Eric Bogosian and is his first play to be performed on Broadway-having won several Obbie awards for his off-Broadway work.

Set in 1987 when Bush Sr. was Vice President and America’s problems were just as serious, a new trend emerged called talk radio. Barry Champlain, one such radio host is depicted by Liev Schreiber with painful precision as each line fills the theater with the anger, hurt and outrage that both fuels and consumes the self-proclaimed big mouth.

Chasing shots of Jack Daniels with swigs of Pepto Bismol and snorting cocaine during commercial breaks, Schreiber’s radio host comes off as a man who hates the idea of playing the game so much that eventually, he loses himself. As the back-story emerges, we realize that Barry’s anger is directed as much inward as it is at the outside world. Station manager Dan Woodruff (a character Peter Hermann plays with perfect capitalistic greed) describes Barry’s dilemma best: “It’s just a job. You get into trouble if you start thinking that you’re doing something more.”

Supporting actors Stephanie March, Michael Laurence and Hermann each have soliloquies that provide insight into the complex character of Barry Champlain but none are as interesting as watching Schreiber perform. As Stu Noonann (Laurence), Barry’s friend and producer says, this is man “who had seen God…in the mirror” and who was so in love with the sound of his own voice that a two-day case of laryngitis sent him into depression – all aspects that the talented Schreiber presents to his audience through the subtlest of gestures. Schreiber makes us increasingly aware of Barry’s growing discomfort in his own skin by creating ticks that, although minute, nonetheless achieve the desired agitated effect.

Even the drugs become harder. The cup of coffee and cigarette that began the show quickly turns to a bottle of Jack and a quick snort in the back room. Everything in this production is on the uphill, growing in intensity until the final cathartic moment Barry experiences in the most ironic of ways.

The almost-constant stream of callers (some that do provide the occasional comic relief – a woman frightened of her garbage disposal still comes to mind) mimics the incessant smoke that rises from Barry’s chain-smoking above the stage (one of Barry’s many addictions) and serves as a symbol for the dispersement of Barry’s voice, and the subsequent messages of subversion, that go out over the Cleveland airwaves. There is no doubt that director Robert Falls hopes these also hold impact with the audience at hand.

Then there’s the voice. It is only fitting that Schreiber’s, which is soothing, deep and infinitely cool, be perfectly mastered for the medium this play covers so well. Having been used for various television documentary voice-overs, the actor’s Yale Drama-trained pipes are also ideal for radio and audience enjoyment.

Also exemplifying wonderful voice work are the actors who provide the call-ins that are so integral to this 100-minute, uninterrupted production. They serve as the “cowardly, narrow-minded and grotesque” – fodder for Barry’s beratement of the menial, ignorant and egocentric life in which they all wallow. Only when Kent (Sebastian Stan) a punked-out fan enters the studio does Barry realize that the work he found so meaningful-the one which he poured his entire life into-is nothing more than entertainment for the apathetic listeners.

Laura Bower’s costume design furthers the idea of the passionate subversion-that Barry works so hard to cultivate-as he does so in an all-gray wardrobe complete with motorcycle boots. The rest of the cast dons an ’80’s wardrobe which, much like the material covered in the story, is surprisingly similar to today’s. Mark Wendland’s set design puts the desk at which Barry sits in the middle of the stage with a sound wall separating him from the rest of the studio-a wonderful visual representation of the division Barry has created in his own life.

And perhaps there is a division that we should also make Googling that next Coke-and-Mentos trick or flipping to the latest reality show. Talk Radio is a production that, when seen, will create an impact in the way we all think about what entertains us. And hey, at least it’s not Fear Factor: the Musical starring audience members and dancing roaches.