Marigold Madness

The Effects of Gamma Rays on Man-in-the-Moon Marigolds

Written by Paul Zindel

Directed by Marci Bobis

At the Agassiz this weekend and next

CALL HER Betty the Loon, or call her a caring mother who just does not care about the right things in the right way. But whatever you call her, Beatrice, the main character of Paul Zindel's short play The Effect of Gamma Rays on Man-in-the-Moon Marigolds, is a compelling figure whose life has gone awry.

Gamma Rays tells the story of this life, mixing agoraphobia, anguish and anger to come up with electric drama.

Beatrice (Carolyn Duffy), a divorcee and widow, considers her life a failure. Her marriage was a disaster, her career is nonexistent (she earns a measly $50 a week caring for unbearable invalids), her hopes for the future are dim, and her children, well, one is recovering from a mental breakdown and the other is busy experimenting with radioactive seeds.

So Beatrice literally shuts out the world and takes out her despair on those who cannot escape her, her daughters and the invalids. Ruth (Robyn Fass) tries to escape her stifling influence by flirting with the boys at school, and Tillie, the younger daughter (Celia Wren) absorbs herself in the marvelous power of the atom, (or as she pointedly pronounces it--"a-tum") which becomes a metaphor for the potency of human relationships.

DIRECTOR Marci Bobis opens her version of Gamma Rays with the Suzanne Vega song "Small Blue Thing," its lyrics illustrated by slides of depression and grimness. As a prologue, the song provides an interesting interpretation of the play. But the snatches of the song that play between scenes disrupt the mood and continuity of Gamma Rays. It seems little more than a cover for the noises of a scene change.

Bobis does not tamper with Zindel's script, preferring to heighten the psychological tension of the family's fights. If the performers (particularly Duffy) stumble a bit on their lines or technical problems plague their delivery, they nonetheless manage to make the eccentric premise of Zindel's play seem convincing.

The strongest performance of Gamma Rays, perhaps because it provides comic relief from the plot's general despondency comes from Anna MacGregor, who plays Janice, Tillie's competitor in the school science fair. When Janice tells the audience about her brilliant achievement--reconstructing the anatomy of a dead cat--it is truly hilarious. With her New York accent and her nerdish look, MacGregor realizes the full potential of her part.

As the moody Beatrice, Duffy proves a master of facial expression and vocal variations. But the very power of her voice almost drowns out the meaning of her words. And when her part requires her to cry, Duffy gives an amateurish rendition of hysterics. Yet she understands her character and exhibits this understanding in Beatrice's volatile dealings with her daughters.

Unfortunately, Fass and Wren seem to detach themselves from this love-hate relationship--and distance the audience at the same time.

Gamma Rays puts the decay of a nuclear family under its microscope and discovers disturbing mutations. But gripping though the story is, the overall effect of Gamma Rays is marred by a few moments of misguided acting.