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Part of the fun of my job is that every night is a
crapshoot: the nature of theatre is that you can never know in advance
which play or musical is going to be the one that resonates, that strikes
the chord, that reveals something fresh and wonderful and true. So it was
with Glen Berger's Underneath the Lintel, which I attended, several
weeks after its opening, with no expectations whatsoever. It turned out to
be the most important, rewarding, nourishing show that I've seen
all season.
Underneath the Lintel is a mystery story about
understanding a life: gathering the debris left behind by a human being
and filling in the gaps to try to make sense of the time that that human
spent on this planet. Underneath the Lintel is also an
extraordinary journey--via a one-man show disguised as a lecture--toward
spiritual renewal. "Would you know a miracle if you saw one?" asks the
play's narrator and central character. Sometimes just waking up to the
wonders and mysteries of life is all the miracle we need.
I want you to see Underneath the Lintel as soon
as possible, so I'm not going to give too much of it away right now. A
Dutch librarian--nearing middle age; alone and a little sad; a lot
resigned--happens upon an unusual book in the course of his duties one
day. It's a tattered old copy of a 19th century European travel guide; the
strange thing is that it is 123 years overdue.
Lucky for us, our hero does recognize a miracle when he
sees one: his curiosity aroused, he tries to figure out how the book
happened to show up in the return slot and--more important--who left it
there. As he searches for clues to the borrower's identity, he finds
himself drawn into a compelling and puzzling conundrum. His efforts to
crack the case take him to England, China, and various other unexpected
places, and eventually lead to a surprising conclusion that tests his
faith in the unbelievable and unknowable.
It's a gorgeous, unforgettable tale that affirms the
tenacity and endurance of man in a universe that feels infinite even when
we don't stop to think about it. The librarian tells us that he is talking to
us today in order to prove one life and justify another, and that's
exactly what he does. Human contact--whether tentative or long-lasting--is
only one of the miracles waiting for us in Underneath the Lintel.
Berger's text is dazzlingly rich and deliciously
engrossing: the narrative flies and before you're aware of it you're drawn
into the librarian's extraordinary saga. T. Ryder Smith, the play's lone
actor, does remarkable work here, characterized by enormous honesty and
conviction. Director Randy White lets neither pacing nor interest lag.
Costume designer Miranda Hoffman has dressed Smith in a homely suit that
tells us an enormous amount about the librarian before he even begins
speaking. Set designer Lauren Halpern and lighting designer Tyler Micoleau
provide an appropriate environment for the piece; sound designer Paul
Adams works some miracles of his own (but you'll have to see the play to
discover their exact nature).
Underneath the Lintel, so simple and unassuming,
is the most profoundly moving and wise play on stage in New York right
now. Aren't you curious about what secrets lie behind a 123-year-old book?
You should be... |
