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Gift

nytheatre.com review by Sharon Fogarty
August 15, 2005

Perhaps the perfect plot is one that we don’t notice going by but rather keeps us in a constant state of suspense. In Mark Schultz's one-act play Gift, a man buys a birthday present for his friend who cannot bring herself to accept it. It’s too beautiful and she might break it, so she somewhat regretfully asks that the gift be returned. The simplicity of this plot is what perhaps allows the actors the complex and tender revelations in every moment.The gift is an inexperienced hustler named Chris, who has been purchased, tied up, and blindfolded by the coarse and jaded Larry as a birthday present for soon-to-appear Sylvie. Like smoke, violence and sexuality are breathed between the characters Chris and Larry. The effect is riveting and although we don’t know what is to come for quite some time, the language is funny, terrifying, and wonderfully specific.Chris Kipiniak has the energy and timing of a psycho-killer in the role of Larry. His cold eyes and quickness set the pace of his scenes. Although he seems cruel, it becomes clear what has driven him to this hostility, as his nightmare is about to make her entrance. The hustler, Chris, is depicted so vulnerably by Denis Butkas that it becomes difficult not to jump up to rescue him. Butkas handles a smooth character transgression as Chris evolves from his innocence to share a poetic and affectionate fantasy when finally alone with Sylvie.Well worth the wait is the entrance of Sylvie, a hypersensitive pre-op transsexual with the affects of an angel whose sadness, magnified exponentially by her birthday, uncovers a most pathetic, humorous, and real creature. The embodiment of insecurity, she sees herself as a monster, too old or grotesque to ever feel the warmth of another’s touch. Spencer Aste’s endearing and bravely intimate performance is remarkably impressive. With a shaved head, wearing nothing more than an oddly patterned faded bathrobe and Joan Crawford makeup, Aste captivates with his honesty and depth. In counterpart to Kipiniak’s muscled frustration, Aste finds the polarity of a kind of painful, feminine strength.Under the direction of Daniel Talbott, assistant direction of Julie Kline, and lighting design by Brian Roff (which was a bit like finding the perfect lipstick), gift after gift comes through in Schultz’s perfect short play, well-wrapped, presented, and worth every moment.