"I'm going to stop you right there. That can be bitchier."
It was during the second read-through of Mammoth, watching a dysfunctional, emotional, and baggage-heavy two-day unfolding of family secrets in the setting of Westchester, NY, that I realized Emily Putnam, Luke Martin, and Marc Cataldi have invaluable talent. So invaluable, I’m actually convinced that they themselves possess their baggage-laden characters’ flaws that include wounded passivity, ulterior motivation, and most of all, distinct selfishness. Thus we have the staple, and tastiest, ingredients for a modern sibling-focused family soup, er, stew … sorry, drama.
Putnam, Martin, and Cataldi certainly fulfill their respective roles in Mammoth with an eerie uncanniness, but it’s undeniably their talent mixed with playwright Kate Royal’s familiarity with her own work, or more specifically, her own characters, that maximizes character development throughout the play. With the help of dramaturge Claudia Nolan, Royal ensures that each actor receives proper direction relating to intonation, wording, and beats. For example, and I quote (as used above): “I’m going to stop you right there. That can be bitchier.” That’s Royal, directing Putnam, who, playing her character Maggie, could add a sharper retort when her brother Drew offers a less-than-warm welcome upon Maggie’s back-from-London-after-five-years homecoming.
At other points, Royal inserts extra beats to accentuate unspoken, between-the-lines reactions, characterizing each player as necessary. While in some plays, lengthy beats are déclassé and sordidly obvious (see: my high school productions), the ones played out by these actors are very strategic – they’re real.
Royal’s strategy, when it comes to providing actors direction, is to put herself and others right into the appropriate shoes. In describing a pseudo soliloquy done by Putnam’s character, Royal describes it as her “homage to Wendy Wasserstein.” When the question arises over whether Cataldi’s character would remember a family incident from when his character was eight, she reminds the actors that, they’re right, eight is an early year, but also a time when distinct memories and timeline checkpoints become clear. Memory works as a plot progessor in this play, and her note is apt.
Mammoth has been in the works since Royal’s time at SUNY Geneseo, so it’s no surprise that she knows it through and through. There was even one point during an intense dialogue, a high-stakes, passionate back-and-forth, where Royal stopped the read-through and said, “Here is where it gets real. The guns are pointed at each other, you know?” But she still offers flexibility when it comes to wording and script structure. After the first run-through, Royal added two new pages to the script that will provide some closure to the buildup of the plot’s thickening conclusion of what will be a story of emotional and physical distance, and an attempt to find common ground between the two.
Putnam, Martin, and Cataldi certainly fulfill their respective roles in Mammoth with an eerie uncanniness, but it’s undeniably their talent mixed with playwright Kate Royal’s familiarity with her own work, or more specifically, her own characters, that maximizes character development throughout the play. With the help of dramaturge Claudia Nolan, Royal ensures that each actor receives proper direction relating to intonation, wording, and beats. For example, and I quote (as used above): “I’m going to stop you right there. That can be bitchier.” That’s Royal, directing Putnam, who, playing her character Maggie, could add a sharper retort when her brother Drew offers a less-than-warm welcome upon Maggie’s back-from-London-after-five-years homecoming.
At other points, Royal inserts extra beats to accentuate unspoken, between-the-lines reactions, characterizing each player as necessary. While in some plays, lengthy beats are déclassé and sordidly obvious (see: my high school productions), the ones played out by these actors are very strategic – they’re real.
Royal’s strategy, when it comes to providing actors direction, is to put herself and others right into the appropriate shoes. In describing a pseudo soliloquy done by Putnam’s character, Royal describes it as her “homage to Wendy Wasserstein.” When the question arises over whether Cataldi’s character would remember a family incident from when his character was eight, she reminds the actors that, they’re right, eight is an early year, but also a time when distinct memories and timeline checkpoints become clear. Memory works as a plot progessor in this play, and her note is apt.
Mammoth has been in the works since Royal’s time at SUNY Geneseo, so it’s no surprise that she knows it through and through. There was even one point during an intense dialogue, a high-stakes, passionate back-and-forth, where Royal stopped the read-through and said, “Here is where it gets real. The guns are pointed at each other, you know?” But she still offers flexibility when it comes to wording and script structure. After the first run-through, Royal added two new pages to the script that will provide some closure to the buildup of the plot’s thickening conclusion of what will be a story of emotional and physical distance, and an attempt to find common ground between the two.