A Review by Barbara Mehlman and Geri Manus.
First, the bad new. Chicago's Steppenwolf production of the Tracy Letts masterpiece, "August: Osage County," is three hours and 20 minutes long. The good news, however, is that when it's over, you wish it would go on for another three hours and 20 minutes.
There have been perfect plays written before -- think Shakespeare, George Bernard Shaw and Oscar Wilde -- but modern-day perfection has been hard to come by these past several decades. There's so much that can go wrong, and often does -- casting, acting, directing, staging, set, costumes, lighting, plot structure, character development, dialogue -- so it's no wonder that Letts' new play is creating as much noise off-stage as on. "August: Osage County" is perfection.
Chock full of drinking, pill-popping, dope-smoking, cursing, infidelity, lechery, suicide, and one good slugfest, this hilarious play is not unlike a Horton Foote offering, only it's Horton Foote squared. Letts, who wrote the chilling "Killer Joe," knows just how to put the "fun" back into "dysfunctional."
The noisy story starts slowly, with Beverly Weston, patriarch of the clan, professor and devout drunk, spouting T.S. Eliot to the Cheyenne woman he hires as a housekeeper for his drugged-out wife, Violet.
Violet, who has mouth cancer, is a vicious mama with a tongue that has been significantly loosened by all the liquor, downers and uppers she ingests like Coke and M&Ms. "My wife is cold-blooded," Beverly explains to Johnna, "and not just in a metaphorical way." Cold-blooded or not, Violet will never be Mother of the Year.
Yet the entire brood doesn't hesitate to come to her rescue when Beverly disappears and rescuing is needed. Motor-mouth Mattie Fae, Violet's sister, arrives with her husband hoping their 22-year-old loser of a son, Little Charlie, shows up (but who knows). Barbara, the eldest daughter, has husband and Jean in tow. Jean's a precocious 14-year-old who smokes pot, flaunts her newly popped breasts, and complains that mom's on "hymen patrol."
The spiritual Karen, a modern-day flower child, makes her appearance as well with new boyfriend Steve whom, she says, is as good as "making out" with her pillow. Bringing up the rear is Ivy, the middle daughter who lives with her parents and is forced to put up with Violet's constant harangue that she's unmarried because she looks like "shlub," or worse, a lesbian.
Whether she is or not, however, only Violet knows, because the fact is, Violet knows everything about this secretive, non-communicative clan. As she says, "nothing gets past me," even in her drugged stupor. By story's end, Violet reveals all the family's dirty big and little secrets, including hushed-up knowledge about her husband which devastates everyone.
The ensemble cast of this saga is enormous, yet there isn't a weak performance in the lot. In scenes that will become new audition material for aspiring actresses, Amy Morton as Barbara, and Deanna Dunagan as the manipulative Violet command the stage, casting away inhibitions like emotional pebbles. The only relationships Barbara and Violet can’t seem to manage are their own, ones they stand to lose as they desperately try to save them.
Ivy and Karen, unfortunately, are by-products of this toxic environment, and they escape with whatever they can salvage of their lives. Special mention should be made of Dennis Letts, the playwright's father, who takes his son's words and creates a powerful Beverly in a brief but memorable appearance.
Set designer Todd Rosenthal has created a stunning building to contain all this misery, an open three-story house that allows us to literally see a cross-section of the family members as they move from room to room. This is one crazy family -- but with all the screaming and fighting, they're still marvelous company. Get your tickets now because the reviews are universally fabulous, and "August: Osage County" is likely to win all awards this spring.
Barbara Mehlman & Geri Manus
