Oleanna
Bill Pullman and Julia Stiles star in David Mamet’s notoriously awkward two-hander about an alleged case of sexual harassment by a college professor of one of his female students.
The material, a 75-minute one-act with just three scenes, is difficult enough, but add in Mamet’s trademark stop-and-start dialogue, his penchant for weak male characters and opaque females, the expectations of a celebrity cast, and you have all the elements for a very tough production.
Despite those drawbacks, Pullman and Stiles, directed by the Tony Award-winning Doug Hughes (Doubt), manage to do a decent job, especially Pullman with his defeated, desperate portrayal of John. However, nothing about the production really stands out... except the play’s half-articulated concept.
The production opens on Neil Patel’s set design of an academic office, with windows looking out onto a brick, collegiate quad of denuded trees. The metallic blinds ominously descend with the precision of prison bars as the play begins, and we listen to John (Pullman) begging his wife to be patient about their impending purchase of a new home. One of John’s students, Carol (Stiles), has come to John’s office because she is failing his class and cannot seem to understand the points he makes in class or in his book. Not only that, but she is convinced that she is stupid, and that she will never be able to understand what the people around her are talking about. John suggests that perhaps the block is only in Carol’s mind, saying, "we can only deal with others through the screen we create,"
Over the course of their stuttering discussion, John apologizes to Carol for making her feel mediocre, explaining that he, too, felt the same way as a student and that he wants to help her. They can start over the whole semester if she wants, he tells her, and he offers to tutor her privately simply because "he likes her." He wants to "awaken her interest, answer her questions."
Carol has trouble comprehending John’s motives, but nonetheless seems to warm to his kindness. The most intimate moment is her near breakdown at the thought of never being able to understand what other people are trying to communicate, prompting John to put a hand on her shoulder before she pulls away uncomfortably and shifts the focus back to John’s problems.
Against his better judgment, John shares with Carole some of his present ordeals - the fact that he is up for tenure but is not sure he will get it, that his wife is practically forcing him to move into a bigger house due to his promotion, that sometimes he feels like he is settling in for an unremarkable life. All Carol wants to know about, though, is her grade.
John tells her not to worry about it, he will guarantee her an A if she continues to come back and talk with him, saying, "there’s no one here but you and me," so they can break whatever rules and conventions they want.
For instance, John asks her why she thinks people believe they are entitled to go to college, or why they think they have the right to justice. Carol is flustered but John is pleased, saying "that’s my job: to provoke you." Carol simply throws up her hands in frustration saying, "I don’t understand you."
Despite their series of non-starters, the two seem to reach a mutual understanding, and the scene ends amicably as John rushes out to a party to celebrate the announcement of his tenure.
Scene two again opens in John’s office, the blinds open this time. John looks haggard, and Carol looks uncomfortable, but much more mature, in a professional outfit of slacks, dress shirt and cardigan. After a few moments, we learn why the two are so tense. John’s tenure hearing has not been going so well because Carol, with the encouragement of some sort of women’s support group she joined, has filed a sexual harassment complaint against him, and she is taking notes of everything he is saying.
John tries to get her to recant her ridiculously overstated complaint, which twisted John’s words and sentiments to allege that when she was in his office in the first scene, he badgered her with racism, sexism and pornographic overtures.
John remains calm, even as Carol claims that his main crime was his willingness to transgress the norms of their student-teacher relationship, and that she resents the power paradigm between them. John replies by saying, "everybody needs to expose themselves to various points of view. It’s essential." Just as he is willing to see her point of view, he hopes that she will see his and relent with her suit, but she is firm.
When she storms out, John tries to stop her, even grabbing her and holding her roughly, desperately, for a moment before realizing what he is doing and lets her go.
Open scene number three. The office starts out dark, with John staring forlornly out the windows. He has asked Carol to come in again, and against the advice of her peer group, and a legal court apparently, she does. The power paradigm has completely shifted at this point, and now it is John begging Carol for her time and to explain what is going on.
Carol is angry now, and it is her turn to lecture. She berates everything John has done in life, saying everything he did as a professor was about having power over her and others like her, but that her version of the events that happened between them is the truth. Carol sees herself as responsible for speaking for the "group," and for fighting what she calls John’s "paternal prerogative," which Carol sees as tantamount to rape.
Defeated, humiliated, flabbergasted, John plays one last desperate move, asking Carol if there is anything he can do to get her to take back her public statements. She says that there is, as a matter of fact, and presents him with a list of conditions that she has prepared, one of which is the banning of his book from classes at the university. John refuses and tells Carol to "get the fuck out of his office." Before she can, though, he gets a phone call from his lawyer explaining that Carol has charged him with rape, that his family has left him, and that the university has fired him.
Hanging up the phone, John is overtaken with rage and throws Carol around the room, screaming at her for ruining his life, and threatening to rape her for real, before relenting as she cowers on the floor. As he regains control of himself and is horrified at what he has done, Carol screams, "Yes, that’s right! Yes, that’s right!" as if the scenario she had imagined all along in her head and been encouraged to flesh out thanks to her support group had finally come to pass. Suddenly Carol becomes the master manipulator, almost a shadow playwright, who has overtaken the work and perverted it to fulfill her own fantasy.
Because Carol turns out to be such an odious character, and completely unsympathetic, the actress playing her must use every skill in her toolbox to stay viable onstage. Even the most accomplished of actors, however, would have a tough time in this role, and Stiles is no exception. Pullman, on the other hand, manages to make John’s ineffectualness and emotional paralysis completely relatable and even endearing, grounding his performance in the character’s more clearly defined arc...or downward spiral, rather.
All in all, the play raises some interesting questions about perception, spin, and the power dynamic in authority-subordinate relationships like that of teacher-student, but it does not adroitly answer those questions or provide enough thoughtful material to sustain them over the course of the play, short as it is. However, it is nice to see how two actors cope with trying to sustain such an intense roleplay, and for that, Oleanna makes for an engaging evening of entertainment.
Oleanna runs Friday, June 5-Sunday, July 12. Performances are Tuesday-Saturday at 8:00pm, Saturday at 2:30pm, and Sunday at 1:00pm and 6:30pm. Mark Taper Forum, 135 N. Grand Ave., Los Angeles, CA 90012.. Tickets are $20-65 and can be bought by calling (213) 628-2772, or visiting www.centertheatregroup.org.
