FringeNYC 2013: Carol and Cotton

St. Paul 1963. Carol and T. Eugene ('Cotton') Thompson are living the American Dream in a beautiful house with four beautiful children. What could possibly go wrong? Minnesota's 'Crime of the Century' is what.
Official production websiteShow details/ticketing at FringeNYC
Review by Amy Lee Pearsall · August 11, 2013
The year is 1963 – and before, and after. The place is St. Paul, Minnesota. And the life shared by a successful attorney, his wife, and their four children is picture-perfect, or at least it would seem that way. In Partizan Theater’s production of James Veulek’s Carol and Cotton, currently showing at the Kraine Theatre as part of the New York International Fringe Festival, we are reminded that dark undercurrents can easily run beneath Kodak moments.
In this two-hander about a sensational crime that takes a middle-American community by the throat, Steve Sweere and Catherine Johnson Justice effectively play several roles, using only minimal props to suggest each character. Under Veulek’s tutelage as playwright and director, the two performers sometimes interact as husband and wife, or man and mistress, or as a key witness and a district attorney. More often, they take their monologues to the audience, navigating around simple stools placed on opposite ends of an otherwise bare stage.
Light and sound designer Lisa Dittmann maximizes the spare effects, bringing lights up on whichever actor happens to be talking at the time, and only dabbling in sound when it most counts. In terms of costume, the actors suggest the period while keeping the slate clean for multiple characters. Justice wears a simple black dress with classic lines, black open-toe pumps, and occasionally dons a pair of horn-rimmed frames. Sweere chooses a pair of dark, thick-rimmed glasses, and opts for a white button-down shirt with gray slacks, looking every inch the company man.
As playwright and director, Veulek seems to keep his characters – the living and the dead – safely behind a veneer. Perhaps this was done in an attempt to replicate a period sensibility where one must keep up with appearances. It may just be a choice to indicate the passage of time, and the emotional distance that comes with it. Still, as an audience member, I found myself wishing for a little less recollection, and a little more reckoning.
Carol and Cotton is a well-performed, well-greased 85-minute machine. The drama lies in the retelling, but unlike a crime show or a thriller, there is little mystery here, and not much urgency to speak of. It is cut and dry; one might even call it clinical. Whatever the reason, the blood and guts of this story are long absent, and it might benefit from being a little less tidy.

