There’s plenty to be afraid of in Theatre in the Valley’s ‘Woolf’

Time and time again during Theatre in the Valley's "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" I wanted to rescue Anne Davis Mulford.

In the role of Martha, an associate professor's wife who spends the night partying in her home with her husband and two colleagues, Mulford is a powerful life-force. Whether sitting in an elegant black cocktail dress quietly listening to someone, or aggressively seducing a guest in front of her spouse, or cackling brutal witticisms, or weeping at the disappointments in her life, you can't not watch her. She fleshes out the comedy and drama in Edward Albee's often brilliant, hard-hitting drama.

But, ultimately, Mulford's performance doesn't work because she gets no help. She's trapped in an inept production insanely cast and poorly directed.

Your heart sinks when you first see Martha's husband, George (Alex Pink). The guy's supposed to be middle-aged, self-loathing, spineless. Pink looks like a late 20-something bodybuilder. Director Deanne Grace seems to think all she has to do is put a shapeless sweater on him, add geeky glasses and some hopeless shoe-polish gray in his hair, and he'll be transformed. Pink tries hard to sound casual, but he's so calculatingly casual that he's inhuman. There's no relationship between this George and Martha, so much of Mulford's talents are wasted.

Then there's Jamie Jones as Honey. She's supposed to be what some might call a mousy type -- unsure of herself, afraid of life. Jones proves she has the acting chops to handle the role, but the director seems to see her as nothing more than a cartoon nerd. She dresses her in a polka-dot dress with a small, hideous red bow in her Sarah Palin hairdo. Does the director realize Honey is supposed to be a real person?

Anthony Avery, as Honey's husband, has a natural playing style, but here, he's so understated that sometimes he's not there. He starts to warm up, though, when his character begins to respond to Martha's advances. Avery and Mulford occasionally have the sparks that don't exist between George and Martha.

Grace's pacing is deadly monotonous, and too often the actors grope for lines. But the most unfortunate shortcoming is the missed opportunity with Mulford. The actress (like most) needs guidance, and here, she's forced to try to fly solo. Despite her talents, the nature of the play doesn't allow her to succeed.

Anthony Del Valle can be reached at vegastheaterchat @aol.com. You can write him c/o Las Vegas Review-Journal, P.O. Box 70, Las Vegas, NV 89125.