A sprightly presence on the local scene for many years, Stuccio most recently has been the head of Armory Square Players, where Elegy in Blue was
developed. The Players bring us script-in-hand readings before a
roomful of would-be critics, not all of them friendly. Given that
background in wrangling, it’s surprising to see that the lengthy first
scene is wordless. As recorded music presents what sounds like African
workers at hard labor, we see a blouseless Celeste in a black bra,
getting ready for the day. Opposite her is a tall, distinguished-looking
black man, Lucas (Al Marshall), putting on his shirt and straightening
his mustache. As Celeste dons a T-shirt, then a blue uniform and finally
a holster, we get the message: under the badge and bravado of copdom
lies a vulnerable woman. Why Lucas is her parallel is a tease not
resolved until late in the second act, which the rules against spoiling
prevent us from revealing here.
We last saw Officer Celeste Luna 11 years ago this week in Stuccio’s earlier drama, Blue Moon, performed at Salt City Center for the Performing Arts. In that work, which was kind of a prequel to Elegy in Blue,
Celeste was having fun with boyfriend McKenna, and there was more
interaction with other female cops and talk about the harrowing demands
of their calling. Since then Blue Moon has been translated into several languages and performed regularly, often before police groups.
Although Stuccio and Celeste are not identical, the playwright brings
life experience to the characterization. Like Celeste, Stuccio is
Italian-American and a trained dancer. While a student in the Syracuse
University Drama Department, she once graced the cover of the Syracuse New Times in
dance mode. A change of circumstances led to her joining Syracuse’s
finest and actually walking a beat in some of the city’s meaner streets.
Those steps led to a degree in law enforcement, joining the faculty of
the Criminal Justice Department at Onondaga Community College, and back
to the theater. Unlike Stuccio, however, Celeste patrols a park in
scruffy Atlantic City, closer to Marvin Gardens than to Park Place.
The “blues” part of the title refers first to Celeste’s uniform, as in Blue Moon, but also to the blues,
which she is effectively singing. Guitarist Dennis Goettel provides
blues interludes throughout the action, usually with standards, like
Gershwin’s “Summertime.” Stuccio’s musical tastes are wider, however,
running from that brutal work song at the opening and rising to an
elegant passage from a Prokofiev ballet when Celeste is about to regain
her dancing feet.
So bluesy is Celeste in the first act that Stuccio is taking a
calculated risk of making her unsympathetic. She busts a vagrant in a
wheelchair, Rodney (David Simmons), when he throws litter in front of
the McKenna memorial (yes, the one with the small bronze plaque we
cannot read from the first row). She almost busts harmless-looking Lucas
when he first appears on the slimmest of pretexts: He tried to walk off
with Celeste’s lunch box (yes, that one), abandoned on a park
bench but saved from childhood. And she caustically rebuffs the
comradely civility of her fellow officer, Jesse Carter (Mark Eischen),
mocking his affection for the Red Sox and deliberately forgetting his
home state, despite his Vermont sweat shirt.
Her sole act of commiseration is with a neighborhood boy, Anthony
(Jamaal Wade), to whom she gives a cookie from the recovered lunch box.
Along with hints for her possible redemption, the episode carries a
portentous omen. Anthony is collecting bottles to turn in for deposit.
Such litter serves another function. The poster for Elegy in Blue depicts a bare tree with empty bottles, from soda and wine, hanging from limbs.
A second layer of revelation for each of the men raises the tension.
Officer Jesse, unmistakably a decent sort, has been abandoned by his
wife and seems more needful than does Celeste. Vagrant Rodney turns out
to be a voyeur who photographs shenanigans in the park, and keeps the
pics handy in his pockets. More intriguingly, Lucas has come from
Francophone Louisiana where he just completed a 40-year term. Celeste
deduces it must have been for murder. And he carries the 40-year-old
postcard, the last word he had from his son Estevan or “Steve,” who
disappeared in Atlantic City. In life, of course, looking for a missing
person in such a transient city after four decades would be a fool’s
errand, but as Anton Chekhov said about that pistol in the first act, we
know Lucas will not complete the drama without an answer. And, sure
enough, Lucas’ quest is tied up with what’s bugging Celeste.
Stuccio the casting director well assists Stuccio the playwright, as
her leads are all strong players. Harrington and Eischen played opposite
each other in local writer Jeff Kramer’s comedy Lowdown Lies, a box-office champ, while Marshall is the Syracuse stand-in for Morgan Freeman, and even Simmons is a winner of a Syracuse New Times Syracuse Area Live Theater (SALT) award.
Stuccio the director, however, undercuts her efforts elsewhere. If a
performer as dynamic as Maureen Harrington is stuck with a cliched
gesture like keeping her hands on her hips, it’s a sign that her scene
is all words, with no expressive physical action. Marshall, Eischen and
Harrington all have wonderful big speeches, as they would in a
script-in-hand reading, Harrington’s with tears on the floor. Elsewhere,
blocking appears random. Worse, scenes follow scenes like box cars on a
freight train, not ascending the arc of tension we all want to climb.
A Syracuse world premiere is essentially a work in progress, with rewrites up to the last moment. Donna Stuccio’s Blue Moon started here and went around the world. Elegy in Blue has a lot going for it and should have a bright future too.
This production runs through Sept. 25. See Times Table for information.
