“Living” in a City of Lost Souls: A Review of “Balm in Gilead”

Entering the very nondescript building of the T.Schreiber Studio on 26th street in Manhattan, you would think you were entering an office building. A mere two or three posters inform prospective visitors of the theatre that exists beyond the glass doors.

Much too often, we find ourselves so blinded by the blatant commercialism of billboards, the neon signs, the crowds of New York City, that we forget the small, most unexpected treasures found beyond the lights. It wasn't until the final line of Lanford Wilson's "Balm in Gilead," which opened October 14 at the Off-Off Broadway Gloria Maddox Theatre, that I realized this truth.

Maybe it was the sound of the soulful opening to Otis Redding's "These Arms of Mine," sung by four introducing cast members, or the in-your-face experience of sitting in the first row, but by this time, the audience was "sold."

In an almost unfairly short two hours, we are suddenly absorbed into the life of a dingy all-night diner in 1965, trafficked by the thirty vulnerable "lost souls" of local renegades, prostitutes (both male and female), drug dealers, hustlers, and junkies.

And suddenly, we become a part of this world.

The set is meant to make the audience feel as though they have just entered the street corner right outside the diner. A "coffee" sign is plastered right onto the smudged diner windows and hustlers sitting around them, adoring the trash cans as the audience enters.

A pair of long, thin dancer's legs hugs the streets and are one of the first things the audience notices in actor Eric Spear's character Franny, a transvestite prostitute.

Although we are centered on characters Joe and Darlene (played by Jonathan Wilde and Belle Caplis), two young people who reminisce about their broken pasts and attempt to dream for better futures, it is almost impossible to only focus on our usually popular "main" characters.

Instead, we are given an entire cast of strong and very distinct characters, all played with eloquence by the acting students of the T.Schreiber Studio.

Using very little romanticism and many very unorthodox theatrical devices, playwright Wilson creates a chilling environment that symbolizes the constraints of societal boundaries on human life and how these constraints have the potential to keep us in an existential "rut," as the characters are in "Balm in Gilead."

In a passionate monologue, Dopey, played by Lawrence Crimlis, captivates with a long flow of theatre-poetry after he interactively pierces through the eyes of the front-row. Speaking of the exploitation of prostitution and the external, yet addictive evils that linger in the apartments of New York, we begin to feel his message and the message of the play.

In our own lives, we also walk through the streets with a cataract of fluorescence that defines New York City, yet it puts us in complete conscious exile to what truly goes on in the places that we choose not to look. "Aren't we even living?" is the final line given by Darlene.

The Studio, located on the 7th floor of 151 W. 26th street, advertises "Acting on the Creative Process" in their programs, and does, in fact, hold true to that motto. Not only are we given a small-theatre atmosphere, but at a mere $20 per ticket, we are given a bargain compared to our big-name musicals, as well as top-quality acting.

Maybe, the next time you take the train or bus down to Manhattan, you will remember to look past the surface. The busy city only one hour from us is filled with a surfeit of hidden experiences that provoke your thoughts without busting your wallet. "Balm in Gilead" sets a fine example of what happens in our own lives when we choose not to look for meaning. When I looked, I found it on 26th street.

"Balm in Gilead" runs until November 21.