BY ANNE COLEMAN

In print | Published April 16, 2009

David Mamet likes to keep things ambiguous. If you don’t like plays that leave you conflicted, he’s not the man for you. If, however, you like your art with a dash of social commentary and a lot of moxie, Mamet is the way to go. A Mamet play will always make you think. There are no good guys in his plays, only somewhat unsavory characters performing potentially immoral deeds, and everything is relative. His provocative plays draw audiences again and again, and Swarthmore is no exception; “Glengarry Glen Ross” and “Oleanna” have been performed here over the last three years.

This spring, we have another chance to see a Mamet play in action, “American Buffalo,” presented by Theatre Exile at the Plays and Players Theater in downtown Philly. “American Buffalo” takes place over the course of a single day in a junkshop in 1975, where three men of low intelligence who share an interest in obtaining money with the least effort possible, discuss “business.” Business for these men is not simply a matter of commerce and capitalism. For Don, Teach and Bob, business is a matter of selective loyalty, nominally controlled greed and jealousy, and a complete disregard for social norms and morality. They’re delightful.

Teach (Pete Pryor) is a volatile, crude man with a penchant for violence and enough strength to do some serious damage. Don Dubrow (Joe Canuso, Producing Artistic Director of Theatre Exile), proprietor of the junkshop, is the brains of the trio but that is not saying much, and he prizes business over everything else. Bob (Robert DaPonte), the youngest of the trio and Don’s loyal helper, is the resident innocent, if a recovering-junkie-turned-thief can be called innocent.

The business that draws these three incompetents together is evidence of Mamet’s genius. They have not joined together to rob a bank or to con anyone. In fact, their criminal aspirations are so small-time that their immorality is only upsetting in how it affects their interactions with one another, as opposed to how they interact with the outside world.

The fact of the matter is that these men have no impact on the outside world; they are out to steal nickels and they can’t even follow through with it. To be fair to them, one should note that they are looking to steal a special nickel from a coin collector, but splitting the booty four ways (a finder’s fee is included for an otherwise unmentioned character) on a nickel that cost the collector a mere ninety dollars is just plain ridiculous.

If it had been murder or conspiracy, Mamet would have told his audience what sort of people these men are, but he has never been one to answer his own questions. Instead, it is up to the audience to sift through the character flaws and find a way through the world of the junkshop. To that end, Mamet gives the gift of comedy.

Dark as they may be, the comedic interchanges between Canuso, Pryor and DaPonte are the perfect instruments to win over the audience. DaPonte shifts back and forth between a vacant expression and a plump pout, pulling off Mamet’s signature dialogue style with ease. When he talks about that thing that he saw with the stuff at that place (the actual text is vaguer still), his attempt at coded language is nothing if not endearing. Even when such veiled language becomes the norm, Bob retains ownership of that comedic element. DaPonte’s boyish looks, brown mop of hair, careful timing provides the sympathetic end of comedy, the unintentionally goofy element.

The counterpoint to DaPonte’s Bob is Pryor’s Teach, whose comedic contributions are largely linguistic. Pryor is faithful to Mamet’s writing and achieves a balance that other actors have failed to do in the role. His violent meltdown is terrifying and completely fitting, but does nothing to weaken the impression he leaves throughout the show. Pryor lives up to the hyper-realist writing and juggles the conflicting elements of Teach’s personality adeptly, introducing the threads of insecurity and volatility immediately and altering them throughout the course of the two acts until they reach their natural breaking point. His realist school of acting is suitable for the role, more appropriate than a comedic style, despite the fact that he is in many ways the core of the comedic elements.
Canuso is the straight man to the two reprobates, but his Don is no saint. He is, in a way, the criminal mentor to Teach and Bob, with the two continually seeking his good favor. As the owner of the junkshop, he helms this brief expedition into the criminal element and acts as enforcer of the criminal code, if there is such a thing. Caruso is believable in this capacity, but never entirely convincing as a malefactor. He is at his best when Pryor is leading the scene, freeing him up to respond instead of to instigate action.

Also worth noting is Matt Saunders’ scenic design. The junk shop is right on point. The cataclysmic destruction of the shop places very particular demands on the scenic designer, and Saunders’ set provided an abundance of instruments for Pryor’s symphony of rage without straying from Mamet’s characteristic realism.

Theatre Exile’s “American Buffalo” has a firm hold on black comedy, and in the moments where it slumps, it does not fail; it simply falls short of its full potential. If you want to be challenged by your entertainment, Mamet and the Theatre Exile are a solid bet.

“American Buffalo” is showing through May 3 at the Plays and Players Theater. Tickets can be purchased through the Theatre Exile website or by calling their box office at (215) 218-4022.

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