Swoosie Kurtz becomes a child activist after her daughter is murdered in "Frozen."
March 24, 2004
Frozen
By Frank Scheck
Bottom line: The primary feeling we come away with is boredom.
East 13th Street Theater, New York Through April 10
If Hollywood's endless treatments of serial killers invariably deliver cheap shocks and a minimum of intelligence, the theater can be inevitably counted on to err in the opposite direction. This new play by Bryony Lavery being presented by the MCC Theater deals with one of the more shocking subjects imaginable, a repeated and utterly conscious-free killer of young girls. But it does so in such a clinical, studied and overly stylized manner that, with brief exceptions, the primary feeling we come away with is boredom.
"Frozen," the title of which refers to the frigid and fixed emotional states of its subjects, deals with three primary characters: Ralph (Brian F. O'Byrne), imprisoned for the horrible molestation and murder of a 10-year-old girl many years earlier; Nancy (Swoosie Kurtz), the girl's mother, who has channeled her anger into a productive pursuit as an activist for such victims; and Agnetha (Laila Robins), a visiting American academic who has come to study Ralph for her thesis, provocatively titled "Serial Killing: A Forgivable Act?"
The playwright takes the far-too-easy way out in the beginning, presenting the characters via a series of lengthy monologues in which they painstakingly delineate their feelings, thus relieving herself of the far more difficult task of conveying such things through narrative or dialogue. Later on, the play is constructed along more traditional lines, though such scenes as the inevitable confrontation between Nancy and her daughter's killer barely ring true. Yes, many years have transpired, and she has come to a sort of peace, but would she really treat him with such kind politeness, and would the brief encounter have the dramatic effect on him (not to be revealed here) that it does?
Overall, none of the characters has a living, breathing feel but rather seem like convenient archetypes with which the playwright can lay out her themes. This is despite the fine performances by the three leads, particularly O'Byrne, who skillfully underplays Ralph to chilling effect. Overall, the play, languidly paced and running nearly 2 1/2 hours, has a slackness and lack of tension ill befitting its provocative subject matter.
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