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Some Unfortunate Hour

nytheatre.com review by Martin Denton
August 15, 2005

Sometimes we call our poets wise philosophers; sometimes we call them crazy. Case in point: Poor Mad Tom O'Bedlam, latest creation of the intensely poetic imagination of playwright Kelly McAllister and central figure of the new play Some Unfortunate Hour. I'm going to let Tom speak for himself:I just want to learn how to love right. You know? The way we were told it was supposed to be? I know it’s out there... I think I knew it once, for a moment... a blink of the eye, really... a flash of thunder in my sometimes almost yesterdays, back in those days—the days better than the good old days, better than just sentiment and self congratulatory bullshit... I felt a brief connection with the thing, you know? The great, black thing out there, the void... and then it vanished, and its sad, lonely echo was drowned out by arguments about how to behave at birthday parties, how to behave when overcome with supposedly insane jealousies... I remember that other time, and I mourn.Tom tells this is Charity, a beautiful smart woman he meets at a bar late one night; Some Unfortunate Hour tracks the life of their desperate courtship in just over an hour (in real time), bringing us and them to profound and glorious heights of hope and happiness and to harrowing depths of sadness and hurt. Tom is reeling from a divorce that became official this very day. His issues with the ex-wife he will only refer to as She Who Shall Remain Nameless notwithstanding, what Tom really mourns is what feels to him like the death of romance, in all its myriad shapes and meanings. When Charity lets him talk to her—after an initial encounter that frankly makes him appear like the madman he fears he is—he is dumbfounded. When she lets him lead her around the floor in a tentative, plaintive waltz, he is at once elated and terrified.McAllister's writing is lyrical, sharp, and brutally funny. The play's structure and tone reminded me of Tennessee Williams's Small Craft Warnings; like that play, Some Unfortunate Hour puts its protagonists into a confessional spotlight on stage to let them tell us their secret yearnings, filtered here through Tom's own consciousness. And, also like the Williams work, this play is imbued throughout with the sad pragmatism that comes with maturity. It's been mounted in a classy production by hope theatre, inc., with a terrific (uncredited) authentic-looking bar setting, expert sound design by Darin Hallinan, and tight, sensitive direction by Tim Errickson. The play is punctuated with a beautiful, evocative score by Robbie Gill (these individual songs are worthy of their own soundtrack recording).As Tom, Dan O'Neill gives one of the finest performances I have ever seen at any FringeNYC festival. He looks like an ordinary Joe, but when Tom's injured psyche gives way to romantic anticipation, as it occasionally does in this sweet, sad play, the warmth from his overheated hopeful heart lights up the entire theatre. Jodi Dick is splendid in the relatively small role of the bartender, Janus, who acts as confessor and chaperone to Tom and Charity. Ashley Wren Collins is less assured in the admittedly difficult role of Charity—she gives us the character's intelligence and humor, but she hasn't quite got a handle yet on the quirky remoteness that will ultimately fuel Tom's climactic, ferocious catharsis.But I saw the very first performance of Some Unfortunate Hour, remember; Collins will grow in the role as this vivid, rich play continues here and, hopefully, after FringeNYC.