Critic’s Pick
Annapurna is the Hindu goddess of nourishment. But that name has been antithetically (and perhaps ironically) applied to one of the most dangerous peaks in the Himalayas, one that has killed nearly as many climbers as it’s allowed to scale its height. It’s also the title of an epic poem that a washed-up poet has been writing in his ramshackle trailer in the remote mountains of Western Colorado. Finally, it’s the title of Sharr White’s new play, the current production onstage at Ensemble Theatre Cincinnati.
Annapurna is the story of a onetime cowboy/poet/college professor named Ulysses (Dennis Parlato) and his long-ago wife Emma (Regina Pugh). Some 20 years earlier, she left him in an alcoholic stupor, scooping up Sammy, their five-year-old son, and fleeing from Ulysses’ chaotic and threatening life. They’ve been out of touch for two decades, although he’s tried to reach her. Her relationship with her now adult son is not good, and he’s learned that Ulysses has health problems and has holed up in a desolate trailer park.
The play opens with Emma walking in on Ulysses, unannounced and without clear intentions other than she felt he needed her. He’s buck naked except for a cooking apron and a large bandage taped on his chest, standing in a filthy kitchen and frying up five pounds of rancid sausage purchased at a dollar store to feed his agitated dog. He’s none too pleased to see her, and she’s understandably judgmental from the get-go about his living conditions in a trash-filled trailer. Brian Mehring’s corrugated-metal framed trailer (complete with a bald tire shoved beneath) and the detailed “décor” by Shannon Rae Lutz add dimension to their conflict as Emma struggles to impose order, or at least modest cleanliness, on Ulysses’ horrendous home.
White’s script, peppered with sardonic humor and deep-felt wounds, unwinds across 100 non-stop minutes. Although he’s stopped drinking, he’s allowed his body to deteriorate, probably beyond repair. He’s put his energy into removing himself from life, but he hasn’t escaped from the drive to put his feelings into words — in the form of a long, long poem that’s about Emma, who is both that Hindu nourisher and the mountain that destroys. “Well, it’s about me, too,” he says. “I can’t write somethin’ about you without it also bein’ about me.”
He knows he did something horribly wrong years ago, but he can’t clearly remember what it was. But like the climbers in the Himalayas, one mistake has been life changing if not downright deadly. He’s still trying to scale those heights, but his chances of surviving seem pretty slim.
Ulysses and Emma teeter-totter through scenes that vacillate from scorn to softness, recalling moments of tender connection as well as past battles. Neither of their lives have gone well since they parted company, even thought staying together might have been impossible. Parlato gives a fearless performance as a damaged man sliding down the slope, desperately striving to grab ahold of something meaningful.
Pugh’s portrait of Emma is more nuanced and impenetrable; it’s hard to imagine what has brought her back to him or why she would put up with his dissolute ways and bitter attitude. But these two fine actors also have the ability to allow an undertow of emotion that they cannot deny. What the future holds for them as the story winds down is not easy to imagine, but they seem to have achieved a kind of balance and peace, perhaps a taste of the nourishment that escaped them previously.
Lynn Meyers’ direction of this script allows for the ebb and flow of emotion. We witness Ulysses’ bravado but his sadness, and we gradually see what attracted Emma to him. Likewise, we come to understand how, in their broken ways, they need one another. These are not easy people to like, but they are fascinating to watch.
ANNAPURNA, presented by Ensemble Theatre Cincinnati, continues through April 10.
This article appears in Mar 23-30, 2016.
