Thursday night I saw A Behanding in Spokane. What a weird fucking play, you guys! But believe it or not, I mean that as a compliment. It is strange and disturbing – but also funny and thought-provoking. Anyway, what else do you expect from Martin McDonagh?
The premise is odd: A one-handed man named Carmichael (Christopher Walken) is on an obsessive quest to reunite with his missing body part. The journey takes him to a hotel where he meets up with two kids (Zoe Kazan as Marilyn, Anthony Mackie as Toby) who attempt to sell him a disembodied limb they claim once belonged to him. When he finds out that it isn’t HIS hand… let’s just say he freaks. His freak-out, and the resulting frenzy, make up the body of the play.
The actors are all first-rate. Walken is Walken, of course; while at first his start-and-stop signature line-delivery is distracting (the audience laughs at lines that aren’t funny, in delight over seeing this oft-caricatured man in the flesh), the novelty wears off and we settle in to getting to know Carmichael. The character’s plight may be crazy, but Walken delivers believably enough so that even if we don’t quite relate to him, we can accept that he’s for real. Zoe Kazan and Anthony Mackie are adorable – her Marilyn is dumb but still savvy enough to know when to use her feminine wiles; his Toby is a street-smart (and book-smart) kid who, it seems, has fallen prey to the lure of cash that dealing drugs – and in this case, hands – provides. And Sam Rockwell… where do I start. He’s gorgeous, of course, but that takes a backseat to his acting in this role. He is my favorite part about Behanding: his Mervyn, the former speed-freak now working at the hotel’s front desk, is twisted and adorable, with a Prince Charming complex and a chip on his shoulder. He’s also the one who finally gets into Carmichael’s head, allowing the behanded man himself to become more relatable to all of us. Bravo to Sam Rockwell for rising to the challenge of this quirky, multifaceted, hilarious part.
Depending on your disposition, you’ll be either pleased or disappointed to learn that there isn’t a lot of on-stage brutality in this particular McDonagh work. But not to worry, it’s both sinister and entertaining… just what you’d hope for (or cringe at, or both) from the master of theatrical black-comedy.
Not everyone likes this kind of show. If Mamma Mia is your thing, for example, you probably want to skip Behanding. But I dig weird shit on Broadway. I like plays that are fucked up and darkly hilarious. You might go see it and react like the lady sitting next to me, who turned to her husband during the curtain call to say “I want to get as far away from this play as I can.” But then again you could also respond the way I did – with supreme appreciation for the fact that risky theatre still gets produced, and we get to see it on as grand a scale as Broadway.
P.S. Notes for stage-door autograph seekers: Zoe was lovely, signing for everyone and chatting with those who asked questions. Anthony was friendly, and signed for many but was in a clear hurry. Sam Rockwell wanted nothing to do with the stage-door crowd (marking a small line on a few playbills closest to the door, but nothing resembling a signature) before sprinting off into the night. And Walken did dutifully sign – knowing he was the main attraction – but made no eye contact and spoke to no one, not even a “thank you” to those effusing about his performance.
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