Catastrophic Theatre's DESIGNATED MOURNER is Disquieting, Disturbing, Delectable Discourse

Wallace Shawn's The Designated Mourner premiered fifteen years ago at the Royal National Theatre starring Mike Nichols, Miranda Richardson, and David de Keyser and was directed by David Hare.

Jason Nodler, Artistic Director of Catastrophic Theatre, directs his second Wallace Shawn with The Designated Mourner, the first being Catastrophic's recent successful run of Our Late Night at DiverseWorks.

Instead of presenting The Designated Mourner at DiverseWorks, Nodler decided to create an intimate theatre space seating only forty theatergoers in Catastrophic's offices at 1540 Sul Ross @ Mandell, directly across the street from The Menil Collection.

This turns out to be a brilliant move, considering the play's intimate and personal appeal.

There is no visible action in the play.

The three characters, Jack, his wife, Judy, and her father, Howard, describe their memories in separate fragments of monologue, with brief scenes of dialogue between them.

The play takes place in an unnamed Western country where there has been a political upheaval or ten in the disturbing years that are described by the players.

Greg Dean plays Jack, who carries most of the play, as a likable existentialist who displays an intense self-loathing, although he is the first to laugh at his numerous misfortunes.

Maybe my problem is always being unhappy.

Dean is an amazing actor to watch, and here we get to witness his bravura as if we were a guest in his own home.

Dean's every breath is calculated from its deep and decisive inhale to its slow and silent exhale.

Dean's savors each sip from a glass of water as if it were a taste of fine wine.

Dean's nuance of each spoken word is given life with each striking and symphonic syllable.

Dean is an extraordinary actor and if you missed him playing the lead in Stagger Lee's inaugural production of Harold Pinter's The Caretaker last November, then you missed seeing him in another stellar performance.

In a play where there is no dramatic action, the actor who delivers the lines had better deliver them extraordinarily to earn our attention.

Indeed, Dean delivers.

It helps that Shawn's material is immensely interesting and paints enough intensely bold pictures to keep us entertained and wondering what happens next to these fascinating and intelligent people we have just met.

Shawn's writing is reminiscent of some of Beckett's works.

Jack introduces himself as the designated mourner, the one who has been chosen to tell the stories of the dead---the survivor.

But as the confessions of the three characters unravel, we are not sure which of them is dead or who dies or perhaps all of them are dead?

What the hell is happening here?

Jack exclaims:

God is not in his heaven
All is not right with the world

Jack makes fun of pretentious theatre or at least theatre he cannot identify with.

He despises his contemptible father-in-law, Howard.

He doesn't see himself "as anything at all."

He wants to kill his wife.

I ran out of the house. 
I felt better. 
So I never went back.

Judy, Jack's wife, is deftly and exquisitely given life by the amazing Mikelle Johnson, who subtly and superbly delivers her "disemboweling of the overemboweled."

Judy's main concern seems to be with the newest generation of politicians who nobody seems to know and who seem much too young.

The politics of her father's generation are long gone and she fears retribution because of her father's political affiliation.

We are left on the edge of our seats until all is revealed in the second act when her story is finally told.

Paul Menzel embodies the revered Howard, who was once a famous writer and well-known for a certain political essay he wrote many years hence.

Menzel's presence is perfect as the aging Howard and his monologue which closes the first act is absolutely frightening, full of intrigue, and disquieting, to say the least.

We are left to our own devices and desires until all of our questions are answered in Act II in horrific words that shock and frighten us to the core, leaving us to ponder, could this happen in our own country?

The Designated Mourner is one of the most riveting, disturbing, most brilliantly produced plays of the season.

Jason Nodler's direction is simple, almost cinematic in its intimacy, and intense,

overwhelmingly and fiercely frightening in its purposefully claustrophobic presentation.

This is the kind of theatre that makes me love live theatre and I believe you will embrace it wholeheartedly as well.

Scenic designer Kirk Markley magically transforms the front two rooms of the Catastrophic offices, a Menil bungalow at 1540 Sul Ross, into a workable theatre with black risers that seat forty that lead down into a raised and carpeted platform upon which rest a square wooden table, a wooden chair, a small settee, coffee table, upholstered chair, end table, a lamp, and books.

Nothing is on the walls except the a shade of dark gray-green paint.

Lighting design by Devlin Browning is excellent.

His use of blue backlighting creates a spine-chilling moment in the second act and he surprises us with a stunning lighting effect at the end of the play that will both haunt and inspire everyone who experiences the play.

Catastrophic Theatre's The Designated Mourner is storytelling at its very finest.