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Regional Reviews: St. Louis Off the Map Also see Richard's review of Assassins
And, like Kaufman and Hart's 1936 script, director Robert Ashton brings this 1994 "house of mirth" to the stage without the slightest trace of apology or falsity. Lines that would land you in the loony bin sound perfectly natural and spontaneous here. And, conversely (almost shockingly, in fact), little moments that seem to wander around aimlessly land with perfect comedic grace. Paula Stoff Dean is magical as the mom: in the middle of nowhere, beset by coyotes and bears and bees, she somehow manages to make just about everyone content, eventually. As a one-quarter Hopi, she's made a family that's perfectly at home on the New Mexico range, though Joan Ackermann's script also adds a layer of desolation for a grown-up, bittersweet flavor—something else you don't really find in Kaufman and Hart's nut house of a play. Julia Monsey is terrific in Off the Map as 11-year-old daughter Bo, who takes it all in stride—though Kate Weber reappears as her grown-up self, doing some occasionally heartbroken narration: mournful that this strangely idyllic world has slipped away. It's one of those performances that reaffirms that childhood was never meant to last forever. So, as a memory play, we should be prepared for both the bitter and the sweet. But the bitterness is handled with such wisdom (primarily by Ms. Dean, as Arlene) that the overall tone becomes one of lighthearted endurance. And that makes it a lot more complex than Kaufman and Hart's wacky class comedy. Arlene perceives the tragedy of all men, but also the comic rhythms of the Universe—and the two combine to make her (of course) quite irresistible. That bit about understanding the "comic rhythms of the Universe" is not just a lot of critical rhetoric, either. But it may be more Ms. Dean's doing, than the character's—you'll catch her adding subtle little grace-notes to her speech and movement, almost like a traffic cop who's controlling mad taxis and delivery trucks all around on a busy street. Director Ashton gets most of the credit, of course, for the unusual pacing: where even the script's funny, meandering little moments (that ought not work at all) become unexpected, quirky little highlights. John Foughty also gets the credit for at least two or three of those odd little moments, though he sweeps in under the radar as Arlene's seriously depressed husband. She contrives to snap him out of it, with the help of a family friend (the perfectly understated Matt Hanify), who also ends up helping himself in the process. Bob Nickles plays the auditor for the Internal Revenue Service, who treks out into the desert to learn why this family hasn't been filing their taxes for a while. His performance becomes the other great yearning—fixed at some invisible opposite pole from Ms. Weber's narrator (as the grown-up Bo)—and somehow, Mr. Nickles' forlorn desire, and great conversion over time, tips the whole thing into magic. It may be a modern You Can't Take It With You, but it doesn't need any literal explosives to achieve its own kind of hellzapoppin'. Here (for reasons better left vague), all the fireworks go off right inside our own heads. Through October 5, 2014, at the Union Avenue Christian Church, a block north of Delmar on Union. The West End Players are now in their 104th season. For more information visit www.westendplayers.org or call (314) 667-5686. Cast of Characters Crew
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