While he dishes the dirt with the audience, ‘Tru’ as
Truman Capote was nicknamed as a youth, is inherently alone on stage. Alone. That’s the essential message from Jay Presson
Allen's play, which takes place during one holiday season (circa 1975), a time when
his expectation of joy is displaced by a sense of estrangement from many of his
closest friends. The play examines the
place of the artist in society, drawn from the very words and works of Truman
Capote. Dramaworks’ lapidary craftsmanship
and Ron Donohoe’s bravura performance make this a compelling production.
Capote is a flamboyant and proud homosexual, a person of acerbic
wit with that lisp and unmistakable southern drawl, and that is part of the
charm of this play. But Tru is also an
author’s author, as a sensitive boy drawn to writing, later launching a career predominately
as a writer of short stories. However, his
two best remembered works are his novella of a writer coming of age in Breakfast at Tiffany’s (unlike the focus
of the movie), and In Cold Blood, where
he skillfully demonstrated his striking ability as a non-fiction journalist, written
with the eye of a novelist.
Rob Donohoe’s outstanding performance as an openly gay
man is not an impersonation but a tribute.
Donohoe is a Dramaworks veteran, having played a wide range of parts. Before Dramaworks’ Producing Artistic Director
Bill Hayes finalized arrangements for producing Tru this season, he wanted a commitment from Donohoe to play the
part. That was a year ago and Donohoe
has since immersed himself in Capote’s work and life story, going to a voice
coach to capture the high, nasal, southern accent of Capote and then modulating
it for the stage.
Capote’s angst becomes palpable as we first see him
unraveling the day before Christmas Eve. Thanks to a recent publication in Esquire of a part of his unfinished
novel Answered Prayers, in which he
unflinchingly reveals unflattering portraits of his “friends”, the super
wealthy, idle rich, he has now been summarily abandoned by them, and most
depressingly by his high society women friends with whom he shares a gossipy codependence. This is a very harsh blow. But here Tru responds to his critics, ”Answered Prayers is the book I’ve been
in training for my whole life…...I’ve written a lot of books, but basically
I’ve always had this one book to justify..…everything. What’s it about? Answered
Prayers is about them. The Super
Rich. As seen through the eyes of an
outsider who for various reasons has privileged access. Hehehe. It’s about sexual license and ethical
squalor.”
The artist’s relationship to the wealthy is frequently a
symbiotic one, the artist needing financial support while the uber rich need
something to fill their relatively empty lives.
Tru feels this deeply, saying, “Money, money, money! They’re very nervous with you if you think
you don’t have any. That’s why they hang
together so desperately. It’s not that
they like each other…they don’t. A yacht
and five houses are what they have in common.
And they get very bored with each other.
So when they can, they try to take in amusing artists.”
So it is with some bewilderment that Tru is facing the
holidays, wondering what in the world did they think he was doing with them,
other than entertaining them; after all he is a writer and to him Answered Prayers is the culmination of
his life’s work. And as we learn, he has
known EVEYONE in society. If they’ve
ever been to Studio 54 they were under his scrutiny. He proudly states: “I am an artist. Artists belong to no class. And people like that who cozy up to artists do
so at their own risk.” Nonetheless, this work becomes a path to self
destruction, lubricated by alcohol and pills.
Conflicting Christmas emotions set the tone for the
entire production. On the one hand he has
fond Christmas memories, particularly of “Sook” who was his mother’s oldest
sister, a person some people considered retarded, and thus people thought her
“funny.” “Sookie and I were like forgotten people. Sook by her brothers and sisters and me by my
parents.” These two misfits were close,
particularly around the holidays, when they made fruit cakes together. His book Christmas
Memory provides some of the narrative about their distinctive
relationship. Nonetheless, Capote confesses
-- and this is the essential sadness of this “Christmas play” -- “I’m very
ambivalent about Christmas. I want it to
be magic – warm and lavish with all your friends like a family. Which sets up terrible anxiety because I
don’t have a very good history with Christmases. And that’s true with alcoholics, you know.”
Yet, in spite of the bravado, the cutting wit, and
drunken cynicism, there is vulnerability about Rob Donohoe’s performance, one
we all have about our lives, whether we are “liked,” and essentially the
meaning of our existence, and the choices we have made, which brings Capote to
this moment in time. For much of
Capote’s life he was a pop culture figure, ”famous for being famous,” but Rob Donohoe
delves into that other place where the artist and the true human being reside. Although there is a sense of sadness and
resignation it is not all gloom and doom as the play provides for plenty of
laughs, such as when Tru receives “a veritable horse trough of unspeakable
poinsettias..…[which] are the Bob Goulet of Botany.”
One person plays are not everyone’s cup of tea, yet in
many ways they are harder to produce than conventional plays and therefore more
challenging to the small team of actor, director, and technical staff. Tru
is skillfully directed by Lynnette Barkley, her third directorial stint at
Dramaworks, and working closely with Paul Black, the scenic and lighting designer,
they created other “characters” using the set --the bar, the Christmas tree,
and the piano, points which relate to Capote’s life and help create movement and
modulate the mood as Tru moves from his highs to lows.
The set is gloriously breathtaking, capturing a sense of
Capote’s UN Plaza apartment, with its books, framed black and white photos on
the wall of Capote and friends, ubiquitous parquet floors and view of NYC. You are a visitor in Capote’s home and get to
know the man and all the different layers of his life through his interaction
with his environment. This is the magic
of a one person play: you are in a one to one relationship with the
character. This person is talking to
you, even breaking the fourth wall at times, which can’t help but create a special
sense of intimacy.
Costume design is by Brian O'Keefe, and although only one
person is on stage, he needed clothes that would enable him to perform the part
believably, not to mention making him look shorter and heavier than Donohoe is
himself. Sound design by Brad Pawlak
captures voice overs from the answering machine, from Tru’s memory, and an interesting
musical selection Allen’s play requires, concluding with the haunting lyrics of “Little
Drummer Boy”.
I played my drum
for Him pa rum pum pum pum.
I played my best
for Him Pa rum pum pum pum
Then He smiled at
me pa rum pum pum pum;
Me and my drum.
Tru is a little
gem of a theatre piece.
