Review: Speed-the-Plow

Ari Cohen and Jorden Pettle (photo by Cylla von Tiedemann)

Soulpepper's Males

Mamet's people

by Zoë Erwin-Longstaff

From F. Scott Fitzgerald, to Norman Mailer, to David Mamet himself, many a serious writer has gone to Hollywood to pay the bills and then tried to create art out of the spoils.  Speed-the-Plow, Mamet’s riveting three-hander contends with the film industry’s ever-present contradiction between art and the box office.  This play, and indeed Soulpepper’s production, does what Mamet does best: lays bare the jousting/jesting relationships between male co-workers and rivals.  And so we meet Bobby and Charlie, colleagues and competitors, in a Hollywood studio which has just elevated producer Bobby into a position where he might for once attempt to rise above the usual schlock.  This threatens erstwhile friend and co-worker, Charlie, who, swallowing his humiliation after being passed over, has just brought his rival a sure-fire prison-buddy script, with a hotshot Director thrown in for good measure. 

With the smug Bobby feigning humility, the two characters bait each other mercilessly in a captivating first scene.  Director David Storch allows the Mamet dialogue to do its work.  Arrogant and controlled, Bobby (played by Ari Cohen) remains seated, with the smaller, more animated Charlie (Jorden Pettle) bouncing around him, bursting with the energy of resentment.  The staging is simple and unselfconscious with most of the action taking place on a flat horizontal plane—much more like a Hollywood film than a theatrical piece.  The actors stay forcefully engaged with one another, only looking to the audience when referring to the contemptible masses who pay to see the pulpy crap they produce.  The point is not subtle, but it registers. We are delighted as we are taken inside a world of tawdry showmanship, where the bottom line doesn’t just rule but smothers every quirky or thoughtful act or image. 

  

Indeed, one gets the impression that, in their efforts to outdo each other, these tap-dancing big shots are vying for the attention of some outside source.  And, sure enough, an outsider of sorts does materialize towards the end of Scene One.  Karen (Sarah Wilson), an office temp, is a tinseltown furniture piece, adorable in her ineptitude.  The rivalry now hinges on Charlie’s challenge to Bobby that, he still won’t be able to get a girl like Karen into bed.  But Bobby’s promise to Karen of a “courtesy read” of a serious script on nuclear annihilation does the trick. 

The set is perfectly appropriate to a mogul’s office, sparse but with telling details; and transitions seamlessly into Bobby’s swanky apartment in the second scene.  The lighting spotlights Karen and Bobby, as we watch his seduction attempt.   Since the movement is so limited, we take in every squint, leg adjustment, and diffident tuck of her hair.  Sarah Wilson does a fine job as Karen, despite the fact that Mamet’s characterization is comparatively underdeveloped. 

The third and final scene is perhaps the strongest, as Charlie and Karen are now battling for Bobby’s favor.  Which film will he green light?  Confused and downcast, Bobby is revealed as a man whose bravado is more fragile than he originally let on.  Perhaps we could take the dilemma more seriously if the nuclear holocaust script wasn’t as insipid as Charlie’s prison-buddy film, but that is precisely the point.  Everyone is in it for themselves.  Even Karen is manipulative. There is no “purity” in sordid Hollywood; and, if you are looking for artistic integrity, you might as well go see a play.  Mamet’s point is duly noted.   

Speed-the-Plow plays in rep