The Martyrdom of Roy Wilson

Like many of the new plays which the Poets' Theatre has presented, Murrey Hargrove's The Martyrdom of Roy Wilson suffers from a lack of discipline and craftsmanship which is only redeemed by talented direction, acting, and technics. If not original in concept, it is at least original in its attempt to force normal speech patterns and language into a poetic form. The script occasionally rises to real eloquence, but more often it is tawdry and indulges in the most egregious bad taste. Mr. Hargrove's use of profanity is completely gratuitous, like a small boy swearing before his parents to see how they will react.

Martyrdom involves a young man who has to work in the warehouse of a biscuit factory to support his wife and child, yet has the burning desire to be a motorcycle racer. He is the eternal figure with little talents who feels that he has a mission to do great things. "Isn't there a circle around my name?" he asks. The world that Mr. Hargrove paints in Memphis, Tennessee is sordid, phoney, materialistic. Yet the reason why the play fails is that Roy Wilson is no better than the world that he rebels against. His "martyrdom" is meaningless beyond the theatrical pathos which is quite effectively created. If the ethics of success or of religion fail to provide an answer, why a neurotic and selfish youth who wants to push a motorcycle? Donald Berry plays the role in the James Dean fashion that the halting dialogue seems to call for and handles the part with considerable perception and feeling. His wife, sensitively portrayed by Elsa Grieder, keeps him from his chosen profession with all the wiles of a woman and he resents it. Mr. Hargrove seems to be making the artist's old protest that women sap his freedom and his creativity.

One of the finest and most amusing moments in the play is John Coe's portrayal of a revivalist minister. Likewise played with a subtle sense of humour is the shipping clerk by Michael Linenthall. Patricia Leatham as a waitress who is our hero's extra-curricular love handles her role with a wonderful fay tenderness, Richard Gediman as president delivers a fine set speech on the wonders of the "industrial South."

Director Edward Thommen again manages to put more action and more people on the Poets' Theatre's small stage than would seem possible. He gives the entire play a wonderful sense of movement, aided by the technical crew's proficiency in moving half a dozen different sets on and off the stage.

Mr. Hargrove's play is a thoughtful and sincere experiment, for all its weakness of organization and possible triteness of theme. The Martyrdom of Roy Wilson doesn't quite make the grade as great folk drama, but its vitality, and the fresh enthusiasm of the Poets' Theatre production compensate at least in part for its weakness.