Theater Online - New York Theater Reviews

I cannot think of many plays, contemporary or otherwise, that have at the center of them the tenderness and mutual admiration of male friendship, and within that friendship, love. Mostly, men depicted in drama are adversaries, lovers, ex-lovers, war buddies, or, as in a large number of Neil LaBute plays, sexists vs. weaklings (Mamet too, but Mamet did it first, broke ground with language usage and rhythms, owing a debt to Pinter. Mamet also did it better than LaBute, as he never seemed to be terribly interested in shock value.) In Neal Bell’s adaptation of the epic poem Gilgamesh, re-titled cleverly as “Shadow of Himself,” male friendship is showcased in this bare bones, stripped down production by the Rabbit Hole Ensemble at the Access theatre, ably directed by Edward Elefterion.

Gil (Matt C. Cody) begins as a brutal and vain king (sleeping with the wives of his subjects on their wedding nights; arm wrestling to stave off boredom) who, tired of being the biggest and the best, seeks an equal. Enter NK (Mark Cajigao) a half-wild, half-man. They fight, end in a draw, and become inseparable, until they set out to kill the giant in the forest; only one will walk out alive. After that, Gil becomes preoccupied with loss, finding his friend, and mortality, which is a nice change from his previous pre-occupation: his fear of being forgotten once he’s dead. When Gil tries to cross over the River of Death to get to NK and a watchman threatens him, saying, “I could stop your heart,” Gil replies, “It’s too late.” Love for his friend changes him for the better, from selfish to selfless.

The cast (Emily Hartford, Adam Swiderski, and Daniel Ajl Kitrosser) does an excellent job playing many individual parts and acting as a chorus, as well as some lighting and all sound effects (and Kevin Hardy’s lighting design, the only luxury in this production, is terrific.) Particularly good is the litany of ill the public wish for their King: “Let his blow-dryer fall into the bath, let him find a suspicious mole… Let him have a root canal, let him be audited…”

Bell’s adaptation freely moves from lyricism to modernism, but the shifts were a little jarring at times, as if to say the parts to be moved by had the most fluid language, and the parts to be jolted by were rife with contemporary allusions. A case in point were the two goon soldiers, ordinary mortals and a counterpoint to Gil and NK: their struggle against their own friendship and mutual love became repetitive (“I’m going to make a man out of you”) leading to violence and torture. It’s a long road to their acceptance, a little too long, and a little too predictable a view the two roles soldiers seem to fall into: the weakling and the bully. And the initially well-represented female roles dropped out entirely three quarters of the way through the play.

However, these are small quibbles for “Shadow of Himself.” Both Bell and Elefterion are clear-eyed and direct with what they want to get across, and that is largely achieved here.