VanLoan

vanloan@nyconstage.org

There is no questioning the writing talent of Alan Ball. Yet before becoming known as an Academy Award winner for the film American Beauty and an Emmy Award winner for the HBO series Six Feet Under, Mr. Ball was a playwright. He wrote a marvelous little show called Five Women Wearing the Same Dress which is often produced in regional theaters. All That I’ll Ever Be marks Mr. Ball’s return to the stage.

The through line in all Mr. Ball’s work is the inability of people to connect. Whether the relationship is romantic or familial, people in Ball’s world are unable to make themselves understood and even worse are unable to hear the pertinent responses that might help them to do so. More often then not, they strive to fashion personas that take the path of least resistance (and consequently are the least self-aware).

Set in the penultimate world of created identities, Los Angeles, All That I’ll Ever Be concerns itself with Omar (Peter MacDissi), a beautiful example of sculptured manhood. Vaguely Middle Eastern or Mediterranean and seemingly bi-sexual, Omar’s fluidity involves using his nationality and sexuality as a means of upward mobility and ultimately self-acceptance. His life as a male hustler seems uncomplicated until he meets Dwight (Austin Lysy) a stoner and pot dealer living off of his wealthy father (Victor Slezak). Something in Dwight’s neediness causes Omar’s veneer of control to crack and he slowly and somewhat cautiously starts to fall in love with him. It’s his feelings for Dwight that soon cause Omar to question the true nature of his personality.

The main problem with Mr. Ball’s play is that while exploring this sense of transitory identity; the work becomes rather transitory itself. Jo Bonney’s direction tends to emphasize this quality rather than tightening up the author’s arbitrariness. Despite the sharp-edged dialogue and some superbly observed scenes - including a late night rendezvous scene between Omar and Raymond (an exquisite cameo by David Marguiles) - the entire piece does not equal the sum of its parts. We are left with a vague feeling of disconnectedness not unlike the one that plagues Omar (it doesn’t help that Mr. MacDissi’s performance tends to be a little flat). Only the exceptional Mr. Lysy seems to understand that a certain neediness and insecurity can establish just as solid an identity as one built upon self-regard. One welcomes Alan Ball back to his theatrical roots and feels justified in knowing he will get a surer footing in the future.

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