written by Neil LaBute
directed by Brian Balcom
November 20 – December 5, 2009
Pillsbury House
With his impending marriage looming over him, Guy revisits the most important relationships in his life with the hopes of putting his past to bed. But a recently published account of his romantic liaisons haunts his every encounter, and trust isn’t something you can rebuild overnight.
Cast
Production Team
| guy | Clarence Wethern | director | Brian Balcom |
| sam | Mo Perry | set | Steve Kath |
| tyler | Anna Sundberg | costumes | Suzanne Jankowski |
| lindsay | Jean Wolff | props | Sarah Holmberg |
| bobbi | Jennifer Phillips | lighting | Jenny DeGolier |
| sound | Katharine Horowitz | ||
| stage manager | Penny Laden | ||
| dramaturg | Sarah Slight | ||
| promo video | Amy Rummenie | ||
| photographers | Aaron Fenster | ||
| Christopher Bowlsby |
Reviews
It’s a good and toothsome script, but the trick lies in figuring out how to play Guy and his women in such a way as to maintain the audience’s attention without making them want to barf in utter revulsion. With a mix of light and dark humor, director Brian Balcom achieves this balance, centering it on Clarence Wethern’s portrayal of Guy.
Innocuously attractive and completely non-threatening, Wethern is entirely credible as the kind of man who, through charm or timing or just plain luck, has cleared the bar of “good enough” for any number of intelligent, attractive and sufficiently insecure women. His Guy is glib but not sleazy, demanding without being overbearing, with a streak of selfishness that can easily be misread as ingenuousness. Wethern makes it easy to see how these women fell into relationships with him and how the hurt he left behind came with a delayed-action fuse.
His discards are hardly broken women; they’ve all gone on to find some version of happiness. Mo Perry’s vulnerability and buried rage as the erstwhile high school sweetheart rings with wistful truth. Anna Sundberg prowls nicely as the wild child who came closest to knowing Guy’s modus operandi during their relationship. Jean Salo is alternately flinty and heartbreaking in a brave performance as the older professor who betrayed her husband for Guy. And Jennifer J. Phillips — who comes closest to confronting Guy with the depth of his misdeeds — has spine and moxie to spare.
It would be wrong to say that “Some Girl(s)” is an enjoyable play. The tinny taste it leaves in your mouth afterward isn’t pleasant. But it is a well done, clear-eyed chronicle, and another of LaBute’s hard life lessons in how that which is on the surface is not to be trusted.
– Dominic Papatola, Pioneer Press
