The set is “inside the head of playwright Eugene O’Neill,” according the Buntport Theater Company’s program.
What the audience sees is the coastal Connecticut cottage parlor of his childhood summer home, where he is aware of the fog and the sea – and where his masterpiece, “Long Day’s Journey into Night,” an autobiographical account of a day in the life of his alcoholic , drug-addled family takes place.
Erik Edborg, as O’Neill, enters, ducking through a too-short doorway and fiddles with a whole bunch of light switches, and other peculiar features of the room.
The playwright is wearing a hospital gown over a business suit and we learn that he is recovering from an appendectomy.
He is planning his set, moving things around in his mind. The audience notices more and more skewed details. Does he want this lamp or that one on? There are lots of lamps he turns on and off. There are two chandeliers, two desks and two phones plus a good many chairs and a Victorian sofa. Glasses are piled on top of every surface. And in a whimsical bit of staging (a Buntport strong point), the boozy O’Neills can fill those glasses from surprising sources!
The room has flowered wallpaper, a clutter of books everywhere. (O’Neill’s detailed stage directions in the actual script even specify what title are on the shelves).
Buntport’s ensemble is known for its clever spins on great literature and “The World is Mine” is probably the most successful and fine-tuned yet.
Enter Carlotta Monterey O’Neill (the inventive Erin Rollman) in an elegant dressing gown and stylish hat. Her costumes and hats change through the evening, but she maintains a moustache that looks just like her husband’s, as do nurse Cathleen (Hannah Duggan) and a fur coat-attSwedish emissary, Erland (Brian Colonna), who arrives to deliver O’Neill’s Nobel Prize since he is too ill to go to Sweden to accept it. O’Neill actually did have tuberculosis.
The Swede does a lightening fast switch to O’Neill’s brother Jamie and delivers a nasty rant that foretells the mood of the play to come.
Back to images in the playwright’s head – he imagine them all with a moustache, looking like himself. The brilliant, but self-centered genius also has two portraits of himself – profiles facing each other and can’t decide which is best.
Carlotta opens a closet door and pulls out an old theater costume-one worn by O’Neill’s actor father in the “Three Musketeers.” The costume reproduces itself each time it’s thrown away – the old man’s spirit is ever with his son.
Hence the play’s title: in the Dumas play, Edmond Dantes throws out his arms and yells “The world is mine.” O’Neill observes sadly that his father said that line 6,000 times and never believed it.
A picture of O’Neill’s daughter Oona appears on TV panels inside a cabinet door and he is remorseful about how she ran away and married a clown (Charlie Chaplin) and was estranged from her father. Nurse Cathleen reminds him of Oona, he says. He tells her about his difficulty in starting to write the play in his head. “I’m trying to figure out why I’m going to write this play.” Occasionally someone says something and he grabs his pen and notebook. Lines in the play are his words.
Meanwhile, Carlotta, who is hospitalized for her nerves, is focused on decorating the house they are going to build: “maybe Spanish, with a Chinese flair!” It clearly won’t have and wicker, which is in the cottage and she detests it! “Why can’t you think about me for a change,” she whines, while sipping steadily on her drink of the moment, which may have been drawn from the chandelier. O’Neill lovingly promises he will give her the script when it’s completed.
These skilled playwright/actors deliver a performance that is both entertaining and imaginative. Don’t miss it!
-Sonya Ellingboe, February 13, 2010, Littleton Independent