How
I Learned to Drive - Review by Ian Alexander Martin,
The Boards www.theboards.bc.ca
14 September 04
This is everything you would want from a show at the Fringe to
be: edgy material that you won't see anywhere else this season,
talented artists all displaying their skills in the best way they
can in service of the material, and using the simplest techniques
available to tell the story in the most effective manner possible.
The story surrounds the relationship between a young woman whose
age varies over the course of the play. She is taught the skill
of driving a vehicle by her Uncle. 'Peck', as he is referred to
by the family (we never learn his real name), is determined to
teach her "to drive like a man" so that she will operate
a car with confidence and defensively. Uncle 'Peck' explains the
use of the feminine pronoun for a car as being correct, due to
the fact that a vehicle is something which responds to the direction
given when caressed and handled with intelligence and sensitivity.
This performance is something that he also is able to coax out
of the heroine 'Li'l Bit' (for we never learn the real name of
the story's narrator either).
When you watch Uncle 'Peck' (Allan Morgan) maneuver his way around
'Li'l Bit' (Eileen Barrett), you know you ought to be reviled
to the point of smashing his face into an unidentifiable, bloody
pulp for what he is doing. He uses his alcoholism as a tool to
elicit continued contact and loyalty from her - if she leaves,
he will re-commence his self-destructive addiction. He reminds
her that they are related only by his marriage to her mother's
sister, so this cannot truly be incest. 'Li'l Bit's grandparents
were married when grandma was 14 and grandpa 16, so the idea of
sexual activity well below the age of consent is not foreign to
this household (and the ideas regarding sex in this family are
more than confused - Mother feels that sex can be quite enjoyable
when approached with respect and tenderness, yet grandma sees
nothing but pain and has never experienced an orgasm).
Uncle 'Peck' also asks her "Have I forced you? No."
He places the onus of responsibility on her with the statement
that "Nothing is going to happen until you want it to. I'll
wait - I'm a patient man."
And
yet.
And
yet, with all of this blatant manipulation of a confused young
woman by a man who is clearly her superior when it comes to control
of any situation, you can't help but feel an intense sincerity
drives his love for his niece. The rugged and sexy looks of Mr.
Morgan may be a great part of it, as may be the erudite and gentlemanly
sound of his flawless southern accent. Who could possibly believe,
especially after looking into the bottomless lagoons of those
eyes, that this is the face of a sexual predator of pedophiliac
tendencies? Mr. Morgan's Uncle 'Peck' truly is someone you believe
when he tells 'Li'l Bit' that he loves her and cannot possibly
want her to have anything less than the best of every opportunity
that life can afford her.
And this apparent honesty is what makes the man all the more dangerous
- he really doesn't know what he's doing is wrong.
'Li'l Bit' is clearly a girl for only a very short time in her
life, as circumstances demand her to mature quickly in order to
keep up with events. Ms Barrett contributes a haunting performance
which includes both an innocence and a complicated teen-age susceptibility
to flattery that is unquestionable; yet the woman that the character
will become is relentlessly there to remind us of the ultimate
fate of this victim.
The entire show is presented in such a way as to include us in
this entire experience, right from the opening of the show by
not bringing down the house lights until well towards the end
of the narrator/heroine's opening monologue which sets the entire
context of the play and the opening scene of a car containing
the two of them parked on quiet side-street. As the events play
out in the car, the two actors sit next to each other yet never
look the least bit in the other's direction, directly facing us
in an almost aggressive fashion so as to demand that we are a
part of this exchange - which rôle we see ourselves in is
clearly our choice, but we are forced to make one, none the less.
While
the rest of the production is less hostile in its approach to
us as viewers, James Fagan Tait has directed this cast of five
to be uncompromising in the way they honestly bring these characters
and situations to life. We hear ourselves, our friends, and our
family members in the attitudes expressed and conversational insensitivity
to other's manners or opinions. We see the logic of advice from
the mother as she counsels her daughter on how a woman ought to
take alcohol, which she herself has done to such success that
she once drank an entire group of British officers under the table
one evening during the war. Techniques she suggest to stave off
the non-functioning effects of liquor include going for a quick
breath of fresh air, splashing water on the face and even "dunking
your head if necessary. A wet woman is less conspicuous than a
drunk woman," she advises. As mother, Tammy Bentz brings
an almost gentile quality to her character (which is one of four
she plays). Kelly Metzger brings an astonishing restraint to her
interpretation of Grandma - the character may be stereotypical
at times, but it never varies from reality, and Miss Metzger clearly
knows how to ride the fine line between comic relief and laughably
ridiculous characterization. As a linking device, Jacques Lalonde
provides titles for each scene with selections or titles from
the driver's manual ('You and the Reverse Gear' 'Idling in the
Neutral Gear' 'Are You Prepared?') with a voice that is familiar
and so out of place in its artificiality that the result is chilling.
The
entire set consists of five matching milk-paint stained wooden
chairs, yet the sense of location is so clear that I had to check
my notes about the lack of any other furniture. There are no costume
changes, save for a kerchief and a sweater for the grandparents,
yet I would be willing to swear that Uncle 'Peck' was wearing
a cardigan during one scene, and that I saw 'Li'l Bit' wearing
both a simple skirt & blouse at one point and a set of pedal-pushers
and a sweater at another.
This
show is so multi-layered in its realization and presentation that
both I and the woman who attended this show with me turned to
each other at its completion and uttered that highest of compliments
for a show: the single, breathless utterance of the word '…wow…!'
The combined efforts of everyone to bring this show to the stage
have created some of the most brilliant complicated simplicity
I have ever had the honour to witness. This is the show you take
someone to if they're not convinced that theatre matters anymore.
""""" [Do not walk, RUN to this show!]
