CAL REP’S ‘POOL OF BETHESDA’ GETS CAUGHT UP IN ITS OWN CURRENTS

Cal Rep’s press release makes The Pool of Bethesda sound pretty good:

Inspired by William Hogarth’s impressive painting, The Pool of Bethesda reveals that a brain tumor can be an unexpected source of healing when a London surgeon is forced to make peace with his legacy as he encounters hallucinations of the celebrated artist. Straddling the world of imagination and reality, the women in his life are caught up in his downward spiral as he embarks upon a visionary search for forgiveness and meaning. Interwoven with the flashbacks are moments of lucidity, as complex relationships fracture and through his delusion he embraces love, loss and healing.

Unfortunately, Allan Cubitt’s script doesn’t live up to the billing, turning out to be a prototypical doctor-becomes-patient heartstring-tugger dressed up with a first act of phantasmagoric dreamscape that has no real cash value where the play does its emotional banking.

Dr. Danny (John Prosky) has been “living a lie” with Jane (Anna Steers), when the symptoms of the brain tumor he divines as being present but does nothing about begin to overwhelm him. They’ve only been together a year, though, and as far as we can tell, prior to now neither has been all that invested in their relationship, so we don’t feel for them on that score.

This is just one of the things Cubitt wants us to care about without his having to earn our caring. A moment near the end of the play typifies this problem: Danny’s sister Ruth (Sarah Underwood) and colleague Kate (Cecily Overman) are giggling over one of Ruth’s pictures while the three women are together at a pub, when without prompting Jane blurts out, “Don’t feel sorry for me. I’m not crying for Danny; I’m crying for myself.” Never mind that we don’t know what the hell she’s talking about–we don’t have a clue where this comes from, as it has zero to do with the moment. Cubitt could have saved the scene if Kate took such a bizarre non sequitur as cause for concern that Jane, too, had a brain tumor and hauled her down to the hospital for a CAT scan. But that would be a play where the people consistently act like actual people. The Pool of Bethesda, alas, is not that.

In Act I, which is all not-very-compelling hallucination with slight crossover into the real world, we don’t mind the babble so much. Moreover, with lines like, “The fault of modern medicine is seeing the body as a machine,” we get the impression we’re going to get somewhere eventually. But promising themes like this are never really picked up. And that’s to say nothing of the doctor/Christ analogy that’s nowhere from the start.

The empty pretentiousness plaguing much of the play’s dialog seems exacerbated by director Joanne Gordon’s choice of having all of the actors don English accents instead of allowing the audience to suspend disbelief. Beyond that, I don’t know what to say about the acting. Having seen most of these folks in other roles, I know they have the chops (I’ll never forget Underwood’s force-of-nature turn in Melissa James Gibson’s Current Nobody); they just have no chance in these roles. Josh Nathan, for example, does a nice job doubling up as Hogarth and Simon, two characters with little in common, but Cubitt has drawn them both as stuffed shirts, so…. ”

The up side is the look of the show. It’s a nice set, with lighting and video projections that give the proceedings a languorous lushness.

If Cal Rep, in wanting to tackle struggles with illness, had staged, say, Margaret Edson’s Wit, I’m sure I’d be writing about how this fantastic theatre company had just knocked another one out of the park. But because they chose The Pool of Bethesda, I had to write this.

THE POOL OF BETHESDA CALIFORNIA REPERTORY CO. • THE ROYAL THEATRE ABOARD THE QUEEN MARY (1126 QUEENS HWY) • LONG BEACH 90802 • 562.985.5526 CALREP.ORG • TUES-SAT 8PM • $15–$20 (PARKING $6–$8—BUT YOU CAN TAKE THE PASSPORT FOR FREE) • THROUGH MAY 14