Potent Albee in 'The Goat'

DURHAM -- Manbites Dog Theater Company has chalked up two decades of fearless productions. Playwright Edward Albee has forged five decades of daring stage works. Their pairing in "The Goat, or Who Is Sylvia?" packs a fearsome punch that leaves you reeling with shock and awe.

"Shock" because just when you think nothing in today's wired world of reality could possibly affect you anymore, Albee grabs you by the throat. "Awe" because just when you think Albee should have been written out, he comes up with another witty and illuminating work.

The play is not for the faint-hearted or conservative-minded (there was a least one walkout at Friday's opening), because the subject matter -- on the surface -- is bestiality.

Martin, just turning 50, seems to have it all: prize-winning architect's career, comfortable home and loving wife. But when his old friend Ross arrives to film a TV interview, Martin reveals a dark secret -- he's having intimate relations with a goat named Sylvia and professes to be in love with her. Revolted, Ross tells Stevie, Martin's wife, who confronts her husband. Martin's rational, unapologetic attempts to make her understand only fuels her distress, expressed in screams and overturned furniture when she's not in a near-catatonic state.

Albee makes the situation purposely absurd, but it's a springboard for musings about everything from personal freedom and the true nature of love to the interpretation of morality and the destructive power of secrets. He also has the astonishing ability to evoke genuine humor while dealing with serious themes.

Albee doesn't write easy roles, so credit Derrick Ivey and Elisabeth Lewis Corley for sustaining Martin and Stevie with such aplomb. Ivey's gradual meltdown from confident banterer to disheveled mutterer is valiantly limned, layered with dozens of revealing looks signaling fear and frustration. Corley's shift from adoration to loathing is handled with equal parts scathing sarcasm and pained desperation. Ivey's too-physical indication of Martin's nervous panic and Corley's too-controlled responses of anger indicate more actor's technique than believable characterization, but these flaws are overshadowed by the their commitment and stamina.

David J. Berberian gives Ross a likable, laid-back quality, and Gabriel Graetz plays Martin's gay son with appropriate sensitivity and chutzpah. These two join Ivey and Corley in displaying more actor than character, contrary to Albee's intent that the emotions should be real despite the absurd situation.

Director Joseph Megel understands Albee, attending to the many nuances of language, cultural reference and character shift. He keeps the pace taut and places proper focus on the big theatrical coups that explode during the course of the 90-minute one-act. Tracey Broome's sophisticated living room set makes impressive use of the theater's space, enhanced by Joshua A. Reaves' artful lighting.

Even the most experienced audiences may find "The Goat" rough going. But those who can see past the frank, unsettling premise will be guaranteed conversation starters for days to come.