His Greatness

Written by Daniel MacIvor

Directed by Tom Gualtieri

Cherry Lane Theater

38 Commerce Street

866-468-7619

FringeNYC.org

 

Review by Scott Harrah

 

Almost Williams Dan Domingues, Peter Goldfarb and Michael Busillo in His Greatness (photo: N. Barnard).

 

The FringeNYC bio-drama His Greatness, loosely based on a “potentially true story” about the final years of playwright Tennessee Williams, tells us little we don’t already know about the American theater icon. In his later years, Williams’s attempts at writing were universally panned by critics. He drank too much, allegedly dabbled in drug use and preferred the kindness of male strangers that charged by the hour. What sets His Greatness apart from the many scandalous biographies about Williams is Canadian playwright Daniel MacIvor’s crisp dialogue and outstanding performances from the three-member cast, skillfully directed by Tom Gualtieri. The play never officially claims to be about Williams — perhaps due to legal problems with his estate — and instead coyly refers to the lead character as the Playwright.

 

Set in a Vancouver hotel room circa 1980, as the Playwright (Peter Goldfarb) prepares for the opening of a revamped version of one of his old plays, His Greatness centers on the volatile relationship between the aging writer, his bossy longtime assistant/lover (brilliantly played by Dan Domingues) and the problems they encounter when a conniving male prostitute (the marvelous Michael Busillo) enters the scene.

 

Goldfarb excels in the lead role, portraying the Playwright as a charming but emotionally fragile creature on a nonstop path to self-destruction. However, it’s Domingues, as the Assistant, who truly makes the sparks fly — ordering the older man around, forcing him out of bed and keeping him away from the bottle long enough to make it through a radio interview and the opening of the play. Domingues’s character is an acid-tongued powerhouse of compassion and frustration, who seems to be the only one who can get the old man to function. Domingues delivers acerbic lines straight out of Albee’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? that resonate with truth about the futility of his situation.

 

Daniel MacIvor’s intelligent script never relies on sensationalism to tell the story. Instead, he paints a sad, illuminating portrait of a once-celebrated man, his fall from greatness and the people he hurts along the way.