By Patricia Morris Buckley | Crítico de Teatro SDUN
San Diego Repertory Theatre’s production of “Walter Cronkite is Dead.” is a prime example of style overcoming form. While Joe Calarco’s two-person character piece is clunky and rough, the Rep’s production goes a long way in making the audience forgive those flaws.
“Walter Cronkite is Dead.” is one of those plays; characters trapped someplace unfamiliar with someone they’d never be friends with in normal circumstances. But, as long as they’re trapped, they pour their guts out to each other. It’s a format that’s a favorite of college playwriting students and even a few well-known playwrights (Tennessee Williams and Lanford Wilson come to mind).
Calarco’s characters are Patty, a chatterbox of a Southern, conservative woman who is not afraid voicing her strong, if often misinformed opinions. Margaret is an uptight East Coast liberal who values her privacy and her intense love of the Kennedys.
They met in the bar at Reagan National Airport in Washington, D.C. Weather has delayed all flights and Patty guilts her way into sharing Margaret’s table. They talk about kids, flying and the way that civility has fallen along the wayside (appointing Cronkite as the epitome of civility).
This play is being advertised as a red state-blue state sort of comedy, but it’s not really politics that are the sticky parts of their temporary relationship — it’s the values of their viewpoints. Their politics merely inform their outlook and opinions. The playwright spends a lot of time giving us those opinions, but doesn’t even tell us their jobs or professions. He is so honed in on conveying his “message” that if we sat down together, we could get along despite our radically different politics.
That we come close to forgetting the rough patches is due to the Rep’s excellent cast, direction and production values. San Diego favorite Melinda Gilb couldn’t be better cast as the loud-mouthed Patty. Gilb’s razor-sharp comedic timing and willingness to go just a bit overboard suits the busybody character well.
While Ellen Crawford is best known as nurse Lydia Wright on “ER,” local audiences saw another side of her in the Rep’s “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” with her husband, Mike Genovese. Crawford plays Margaret’s
uptight nature as though it’s a religion, which makes her drunken revelations at the end all the more intriguing. But her best moment is when she tells about the ghosts of the Kennedys visiting Margaret and prompting her to have a fourth child — Crawford’s Kennedy imitations are a scream.
It says a lot about a designer when you walk into the theater and immediately know who designed the set. Sean Fanning excels with office-like environments, but this bar has an ebb and flow to it that keeps the table the women are at from becoming claustrophobic. Omar Ramos’ constant track of background voices makes the airport seem more realistic, but he never makes its hum distracting or annoying. Ross Glanc’s lights are like a mood ring, shifting to reflect the emotions in each scene.
A director with a heavy touch would have reduced this show to a pedantic mess. But Shana Wride’s brisk and nuanced direction is almost as civilized as Cronkite himself.
While Calarco’s script has little to recommend it, the same can’t be said for the Rep’s production. Skilled acting, direction and production values raise this show to something that’s an enjoyable way to pass time between plane rides.
Editors note: the period in the title is intentional.
