The Pillowman | Steppenwolf Theatre Company
INFO 312-335-1650
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After several years’ hiatus McDonagh reemerged in 2003, at England’s National Theatre, with The Pillowman, set in an unnamed totalitarian state. The play got raves when it arrived on Broadway last year, and like his earlier works, this one–now being performed by Steppenwolf–provides some uniquely discomfiting thrills. But in stepping outside his literary home turf, McDonagh seems to be straining for the stylistic coherence that once flowed effortlessly; for one thing, the “totalitarian state” here is pretty sketchy. And ultimately he indulges the story’s perversity to a point verging on prurience.
In Jim True-Frost’s nuanced performance, it’s clear that Katurian’s immersion in his own troubled imagination has made him arrogant, skittish, and ill prepared to face reality, especially the reality of brutal interrogators convinced of his guilt. With no resources, Katurian falls back on his own self-absorbed “creativity.” He mincingly insists that he has no obligation to do anything but write whatever stories he likes, and he can hardly make sense of them himself–he describes them as “something-esque.” In the terrifying and hilarious opening scene, this tweedy milksop barely able to draw breath tries to stand his ground while the zealous, bickering officers gear up to drag him next door and execute him.
and there’s no reason given for his lie–yet it sets Katurian down a path that defines the rest of the play. Most problematic, because it’s central to the plot, is Katurian’s uncharacteristically heroic insistence that his stories be saved no matter what.
