News & Reviews

‘Boys Next Door’ proves electric

By Paul Kolas Telegram and Gazette Reviewer
October 12, 2005 - FOUR STARS

STURBRIDGE— If one were pressed to offer a sound bite summation for Stageloft Repertory Theater’s splendid adaptation of Tom Griffin’s “The Boys Next Door,” it might be best expressed by the often uttered exclamation of one of its main characters, mentally challenged Norman, who usually prefaces what he is about to say with “oh, boy!”

Norman is one of four mentally handicapped men living in a supervised apartment, run by a frustrated, “burned out” counselor named Jack Palmer. The success of Griffin’s tightly focused work derives in large part from its staunch refusal to sermonize about its subject matter or sanctify its characters.

“The Boys Next Door” runs on an emotional current that beats to its own drummer, much like that of Norman and his fellow residents: Arnold Wiggins, Lucien P. Smith and Barry Klemper. It’s a current rife with ambivalence. Griffin dares one to laugh at these people, with their atypical behavior, until one becomes so accustomed to their world that one is laughing with them and seeing the world through their eyes.

Arnold, for example, announces that he’s a “nervous person.” He equates all stressful situations with maladies from arthritis to angina, not having a clue what they mean, but in some strange way, Arnold’s sense of logic begins to make sense. Because he’s “borderline” handicapped, according to one of Jack’s direct addresses to the audience, Arnold has a marginal job working at a movie theater.

Norman works at a doughnut shop and brings home leftovers, and seems to be the only one remotely interested in the opposite sex, courting the neighboring Shelia.

Lucien is the most severely challenged, gloating over his new green library card and running a vacuum cleaner unplugged because it makes too much noise. The very articulate Barry is a delusional schizophrenic who gives golf lessons that have nothing to do with the fundamentals of the game itself. He’s also nervously anticipating an upcoming visit from his father, whom he hasn’t seen in nine years.

Mark Axelson (Arnold), Jeremy Woloski (Norman), Doug Ingalls (Lucien), and Derek Sylvester (Barry) define these disparate yet connected souls with consummate detail, humor and compassion. It’s ensemble acting of the highest order, a combined effort that extends to the pivotal performance of Robin Gabrielli as Jack. Gabrielli subtlety underplays Jack’s mixed emotions about caring for this difficult group, and when he exclaims in vexation that “they deserve better, I deserve better,” the words resonate with total understanding.

In a production filled with memorable moments, there are three that truly stun. Norman is forever asking Sheila to dance, and in a poignant flight of fancy, the two imagine themselves whirling gracefully around a dance floor, and for once, they are doing what they dream of doing in synchronous bliss. Woloski and Stacie Beland, who delivers a touchingly shy and awkward performance as Sheila, captivate here.

Later in the play, Lucien is called before a committee to determine if he’s fit to work. In the middle of his customary verbal drivel, the light illuminates his face and he suddenly, startlingly, begins explaining in heartbreakingly eloquent terms, what it feels like to be a middle-aged man entrapped in the muddled mind of a 5-year-old, ending his lament with, “I am here to remind the species of the species. Without me you will never be frightened of what you might have become or may become.” If Griffin is giving us a message, it’s in this electric scene, rendered by Ingalls with transforming brilliance.

When Barry’s father finally shows up, the results are devastating. Patrick Lynch sharply plays Mr. Klemper as the pitiful shell of a father he really is. It’s a harrowingly enacted encounter, a concluding slap in the face that stings both Barry and the audience. Sylvester gets Barry’s recoil into whimpering silence painfully right. There is devious power in Griffin’s dextrous mingling of outrageous comedy and this sort of sobering drama.

Frank Bartucca and Cecile d’Entremont ably fill supporting multiple roles under Edward Cornely’s enlightened direction, who seems to have been as inspired by Griffin’s work as his remarkable cast. It’s a triumph.