Talley’s Folly

Lanford Wilson’s regularly revived 1980 Pulitzer winner begins with a long (and rather literary) narrative monologue, which gives way to a tête-à-tête—on a starry night in a Midwestern location, overlooking the water—as two mid-life types quietly try to work out a once-promising romance that got broken along the way.(Curiously, the current show over at the Sacramento Theatre Company, The Pavilion by Craig Wright, uses some virtually identical 2x4s in its structural framework; but give credit where due—Lanford Wilson penned Talley’s Folley 20 years before Wright wrote his play.)

The Delta King Theatre is also located on the water, just like the decaying old boathouse that’s the scene for Talley’s Folly. But the Delta King’s not an entirely quiet spot—to be sure, you can enjoy the sound of the water slapping against the hull of the venerable old vessel, but you also get occasional throb of dance music from a passing party boat, and the drumming of footsteps from the lobby upstairs. And that undercuts the script’s secluded, romantic spell at times.

This production features the resourceful Daniel W. Slauson as Matt Friedman (40-something Jewish urbanite of Eastern European heritage) who’s fallen for a slightly younger woman (Sally Talley, played by Heather Williams) who’s still living in her native village in rural Missouri—the sort of place where (in 1944, when the story takes place) there wasn’t a synagogue for a hundred miles around.

Slauson and Williams are effective individually—he’s got a good way with comic delivery, with the ability to invoke personal, tragic depths when he needs to; she’s got an appealing look, and she handles her confessional dramatic scenes with sincerity. Credit also to director Jerry Montoya.

But for the story to really soar, you need strong personal chemistry between Matt and Sally, a personal attraction that pulls both of them out of their accustomed, established lives of social isolation. That sort of flame is only present intermittently in this show.

The ubiquitous Ron Dumonchelle (who designs for almost everyone in town) contributes one of his better efforts in terms of set and lights, deftly evoking the dusky, decaying boathouse on the Delta King’s small stage.