Two small local theater companies - well, one small and one very small - have teamed up to present one of the largest, most ambitious productions of the year: "The Kentucky Cycle," a six-hour, nine-play sequence by Robert Schenkkan that won the 1992 Pulitzer Prize but has been rarely staged since, not least because it is a six-hour, nine-play sequence. Stretching over two centuries of American history. As seen through the lives of three obscure and not very likable families. In the hills of eastern Kentucky. With a giant cast.
Swept up in an epic undertaking
And yet Zeitgeist Stage Company and Way Theatre Artists have taken it on, and they'll be presenting it in two parts - the first five plays in one chunk on Thursday nights and weekend afternoons, the second part, comprising four plays, on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights - through Nov. 17 in the tiny Plaza Black Box Theatre at the Boston Center for the Arts. You can see it on separate days, or arrive at 2 p.m., take a supper break, and finish up a little before 11 that night.
By now you may be wondering: Why on earth would I do that? And there's a simple answer: "The Kentucky Cycle" is, as Zeitgeist and Way declare it to be, nothing less than an American epic.
It is huge, engrossing, and powerful in the way that only an epic can be. It is also sometimes irritating and flawed in the way that an epic can be: too extreme in its dramatic twists, too broad in its writing. But this production does a remarkable job of minimizing those weaknesses and focusing on the cycle's strengths: its intricate but clear plot lines, its vivid and concise characterizations, and its sweeping development of resonant themes.
Schenkkan has clearly cast his tale in the mold of classic Greek tragedy, following his Rowen, Talbert, and Biggs clans through generations of murder, rape, and other individual and social cruelties in a manner that will resonate with anyone who's ever entered the house of Atreus. Like the Greeks, Schenkkan traces the sins of the fathers through the fates of their sons, and like them he seeks redemption but often finds only more bloody sin. Violence and virtue crash against each other repeatedly, like echoing waves, and what may be most satisfying is the way in which the audience comes to hear and understand some echoes that remain hidden from the characters themselves.
Advertisement
Advertisement