‘Wit’ in Westfield: Facing a ‘very tough’ end

By John Lyle Belden

In ‘Wit,’ the Pulitzer-winning drama by Margaret Edson, presented by Main Street Productions in Westfield, it’s not a big spoiler to say that our central character, Vivian Bearing, Ph.D, dies at the end of aggressive stage-four ovarian cancer.

Vivian (Beverly Roche) confides as much when she enters the stage as her own narrator. Feeling the play’s run-time, she condenses the necessary flashbacks and eight months of experimental chemotherapy into having less than two hours to live. In her friendly engagement with us across the fourth wall, it feels initially like a one-woman play that happens to have several supporting actors – however, we also gain a sense of their own feelings on their endless struggle against the forces of death.

Dr. Bearing is not a medical doctor, but a renowned professor of literature, weaving her career-long study of the works of 16th century English poet John Donne (sonnets include “Death be not Proud”) into the narrative of her final days, grasping for the wit she saw in his approach to life and mortality. We see a pivotal moment of her as a college student of Donne expert E.M. Ashford (Susan Hill), engaging her attention to detail that would make Vivian notorious as a teacher herself.

“You have cancer,” Harvey Kelekian, M.D., (Mark Kamish) says frankly – which she appreciates. Being advanced stage four (there is no “stage five”), he sets up what turns out to be a brutal course of chemotherapy, telling Vivian he needs her “to be very tough.” She agrees and, somehow, will see it all through, bringing us all along.

We meet medical staff with contrasting approaches to her treatment: Dr. Kelekian’s research fellow, Dr. Jason Posner (Connor Phelan), who seems more interested in the cancerous cells than the woman they inhabit, and Nurse Susie Monahan (Becca Bartley) whose humanity and empathy become increasingly valuable as they work through the coming ordeal. 

Other roles are played smartly by Eric Bowman, Leah Hoover, MaryAnne Mathews, and Teresa Otis Skelton.

The play is directed with compassionate detail by Eric Bryant and Becky Schlomann. Bryant said he had proposed directing the play to MSP, then felt grateful when circumstances allowed him to add a co-director for a woman’s perspective. Their easy cooperation is reflected throughout the ensemble, who were encouraged in preparation to reflect on their own experiences with loved ones dying and/or working through cancer.

The background work included assistance from dramaturg Brooke Conti, Ph.D., of Cleveland, for her expertise on Donne; clinical consultant Glenn Dobbs, who aside from his involvement in local theatre is a retired OB/GYN; and intimacy director Lola LaVacious, considering the very personal and invasive nature of the disease and treatment.

“People always talk to us about the production (after a performance),” Schlomann said, but with this show, they “bring up their own stories, they find a personal connection.”

As Vivian, Roche makes that sense of kinship feel natural, as both a fascinating lecturer and an engaging guide. Her disease has cracked the professor’s cynical shell, allowing us to see the soul – with its stubborn wit – within.

Hill, whose professor has a more tempered approach to the Poet, gives us a wise mentor who bookends Vivian’s journey with a touching penultimate scene. Bartley’s Susie kindly and heroically reminds us that there is more to good medicine than doctorate-level knowledge.

Phelan’s Dr. Posner seems at times aloof, practically on the neurodivergent spectrum, but maintains his own complexity with his devotion to research and fascination with the “immortal” nature of cancer cells. Perhaps there is also a discomfort with mortality that informs his clinical distance from his very mortal patient.

This play, even with its own sense of wit among the serious goings-on, can be challenging to watch – especially if you have had any experience with the events portrayed – but it is well worth the effort to experience.

Speaking of which, it won’t be easy to reach the Westfield Basile Playhouse, 220 N. Union St., due to highway construction downtown. We found our way by driving the streets that lead to Westfield High School, then turning south on Union. Consult a maps app for alternate routes.

Performances of “Wit” are Thursday through Sunday, June 5-8. Get tickets at westfieldplayhouse.org.

They won at all costs

By John Lyle Belden

“That Championship Season” is not an easy play to watch. It is, however, a powerful drama you should see. A quick internet search revealing the names of actors in the Off-Broadway, Broadway and film productions of this 1973 Pulitzer Prize winner by Jason Miller reveals this is one of those meaty Glengarry-Death-of-a-Godot plays men trip over one another to audition for.

Main Street Productions of Westfield has stepped up to that challenge, bravely directed by Lori Raffel. Set in 1977, we meet the coach and members of the 1952 Fillmore High School basketball team from Scranton, Pennsylvania, which, as underdogs, won the State Championship on a last-second shot. (Some Hoosiers can relate.)

George Sikowski (Earl Campbell), former insurance salesman and current Mayor, is on hand at first with the youngest teammate, Tom Daley (Adrian Scott Blackwell) who at 40 is regarded by the group as a sort of drunken prodigal son. Soon to arrive are Phil Romano (Ken Kingshill), who has made a fortune in strip-mining coal; Tom’s brother James (Mark Kamish), a junior high principal, father of five, and George’s reelection campaign manager; and their Coach (Jim Simmons), who may not live long enough to make their next reunion.

It is telling that the team member who made that final shot, “magic” Martin, is missing, and has never attended a reunion.

The approximately hour-and-a-half of manly conversations weave a bit of nostalgia with a lot of discussions of George’s reelection challenge by a popular Jewish man, and how low-key antisemitism can’t be counted on to affect the results. Mr. Charmin has progressive ideas – some of which clash with Phil’s interests – and Mayor Sikowski is partly known for a zoo opening that resulted in dead elephant. Oh, and Phil slept with George’s wife.

While a solid stream of dark humor runs through the drama, it is also noteworthy for the “locker-room talk” used throughout. Raffel and the cast pull no verbal punches here, as what we hear is likely tame compared to how men in this time, place, and situation regularly spoke (and to a degree still do; fellow Veterans could attest). This was before “political correctness” entered the culture, so in addition to sexual and scatological terms, there is no restraint on the “N” word and similar slurs. After all, the “Pollack” and “Wop” in the room don’t seem to mind too much.

But look beneath the rough language and we see that the men Coach thought he had forged are still just boys in need of game plans, reliant on his guidance – flawed as he also is. Simmons in his portrayal reflects every elder you ever adored, but wondered later if that was a good thing. His is a principled bigotry, the kind often waved off as a product of his times, but still shaded with barely acknowledged hate.

Campbell channels the consummate politician, with good intentions, the desire for legacy, and solid principles as long as the check clears. Kamish as put-upon James desperately realizes that at 44 his clock is ticking on becoming a Big Success; his confidence is thinner than even he realizes. Kingshill plays Romano with a demeanor suggesting relation to certain other Italians in the region, but he stays true to the “family” his championship team provides. Tom’s plight is also reflective of the time, his supposed friends pouring him more drinks as they remark how he can’t hold his liquor; Blackwell provides the pathos and humor as each moment requires.

Hopefully you get the idea of the kind of intense drama and insight into damaged manhood this play provides. On that score, this production of “That Championship Season” is a winner. Remaining performances are Thursday through Sunday, April 11-14, at the Basile Westfield Playhouse, 220 N. Union St. Get tickets and info at westfieldplayhouse.org.