"The Laramie Project" serves as memorial for gay hate-crime victim

Theatre II play follows aftermath of 1998 murder of Matthew Shepard

MORGAN RIEHL / staff photographer Junior Hunter Christy performs in a scene as a preacher fending off the media in a small town experiencing a horrific tragedy. "The Laramie Project" runs in Theatre II through Oct. 12 at 8 p.m.

A two-and-a-half hour show composed solely of monologues sounds overwhelming, and it is. It also is remarkable.

The Theatre II production of "The Laramie Project" is an emotionally draining show for the cast and the audience. It is a powerful, personal experience for everyone involved. "I just wanted to go into the fetal position," audience member Ariella Bowden, a sophomore, said at the end of the play. "I was shaking to hold back sobs."

The torture and death of a young man is not subject matter that can be dealt with lightly and this cast does not hold back at all. The actors deliver monologues in the midst of rage and on the brink of tears, their hearts splitting wide open.

There was an especially tender moment from senior Andrew White as the boy who discovers Matthew Shepard's beaten body, and another monologue involved a heart-wrenching breakdown from Shepard's doctor, played by senior Hunter Christy.

The actors maintain an unbroken intimacy with the audience and an exhausting intensity. Every pause is captivating. Every line packs a punch. The audience may start to squirm a bit at the two-hour mark, but they continue to hang on every single word.

This Theatre II production is impressively professional from start to finish. While the audience is waiting for the play to begin, the sound coming from the speakers is a montage of music and news clips, setting precedence for the show's emphasis on and effective use of technology.

Halfway through the play, the back curtain opens on an intimidating wall of television sets, all broadcasting more news clips. At the same time, the stage is swarmed with camera crews and reporters. Flashes go off, camera cords become entangled and privacy is invaded in a media barrage. The televisions remain for a good portion of the show as a silent, yet visually busy background. The TV sets push the audience close to sensory overload, but never go too far. They reappear at the end of the play for a final punch.

The trial scene at the end of the play is particularly well-structured — the man on the stand is heavily lit and the chorus of actors portraying the jury is sitting with their backs to the audience.

The conversational, documentary style of the script lends itself to an incredible realism and the actors are remarkably subtle. Given the challenging structure of the show, some are perhaps too subtle. There is a core of eight actors, each playing six or seven characters. With the rapid pacing of the transitions from monologue to monologue, it is hard to keep track of who is who.

Therefore, it is difficult to distinguish different characters played by the same actors. Although the difficulty differentiating between characters is mildly distracting, it does not detract from the power of the play. "I'm not looking at them as characters. I'm looking at them to see the next thing going on," audience member Harrison Behl, a sophomore, said. "It's hard to separate the performance from the message, but it's convincing and it's compelling."

Many aspects of the production and performance help with character differentiation. Costuming, designed by junior Mollie Helton, is crucial intelling the characters apart.

Each core actor wears a base costume of a white top and black bottom, but he or she also has a specific accessory assigned to each of his or her characters, be it glasses, a pink sweater or a green hat. The appearance of these items makes it much easier to tell characters apart.

The play is written about an actual event that took place in Laramie, Wyoming four years ago, during which the real Matthew Shepard was attacked because he was gay. One of the play's main points is this — the fact that such brutaland undeserved violence exists anywhere at all means that people everywhere are capable of it. What happened to Matthew Shepard could happen to anyone. It could have been a next-door neighbor, a best friend. "The Laramie Project" asks its audience to realize that. One of Sorrentino's characters, a Catholic priest, says, "Just deal with what is true," and this play certainly does.

Anyone with fears or regrets, anyone who has experienced loss and anyone with love or hate for another human being will find "The Laramie Project" to be spectacularly relevant to his or her life.

"The Laramie Project" will run at Theatre II through Saturday, Oct. 12. at 8 p.m. with a midnight showing Friday night. Tickets are $3.