Edward Albee’s ‘At Home at the Zoo’ packs a lots of fireworks into two conversations

CHASE NEWHART

Gregory Erbach and Quinn Cassavale co-star in Hudson Theatre Works’ production of “At Home at the Zoo.”

You won’t find a more immediate, intimate or engrossing piece of theater than Edward Albee’s “At Home at the Zoo,” which is running at Weehawken’s Hudson Theatre Works through Nov. 8.

“At Home at the Zoo” is an odd duck: two acts comprised of “The Zoo Story,” Albee’s first play (originally produced in 1959), and “Homelife,” added as a first act some 45 years later. All of Albee’s familiar themes, from his questioning of the American Dream to issues of alienation, loneliness and the animal urges that lurk under the thin veneer of civilization, run through the work, which is small in scale but loaded with wit, drama and ideas.

And then there is the theater itself. With Hudson Theatre Works’ former home, Weehawken’s Wilson School, unavailable due to extensive renovations, and its future home, the township’s new arts center, years from completion, the company has returned to its original venue, the historic Weehawken Water Tower. This handsome brick landmark (once attached to a reservoir that was transformed into a mall in 1980) provides a second floor perch no larger than a living room, where a few rows of folding chairs, a few props and a black curtain become a theater.

Gregory Erbach, a familiar face to Hudson Theatre Works patrons as both an actor and a behind-the-scenes production manager, plays Peter, a successful executive whose company publishes textbooks. In “Homelife,” Peter and his wife Ann (Quinn Cassavale) attempt to communicate in their cozy Upper East Side living room. The play begins with Ann saying “We should talk,” and the rest of the act consists of the couple revealing — through dialogue that is naturalistic, sharp-toothed and devastatingly honest, but also occasionally comedic — that while they love each other, their seemingly ideal marriage suffers from crippling emotional issues.

These problems manifest themselves immediately. Peter, as is his wont, has lost himself so deeply in his textbook that he doesn’t even hear his wife. She confronts him, and Peter, to his credit, realizes his shortcoming and makes an earnest effort to communicate. After a few false starts, they do talk — in fact, they dissect their marriage with bloody razor blades. Cassavale, as the fierce and proud Ann, does most of the heavy emotional lifting and delivers a magnificent and riveting performance. Erbach’s Peter is a well-meaning schlub, but it is hard not to compare him to the textbook he is reading, which he considers both the most important thing he has published, and the most boring.

CHASE NEWHART

Tony Knotts, left, and Gregory Erbach in “At Home at the Zoo.”

At the end of their conversation, Ed takes his book and goes to read in the park, and that brings us to Act Two (i.e., “The Zoo Story”). In the park, while sitting on his favorite bench, Peter is accosted by a bedraggled stranger who announces, “I’ve been to the zoo.” This is Jerry, whose youthful passion, frankness and aggression are offset by the gray in his hair. As played by Tony Knotts, Jerry is neither young nor old; not as dirty or disheveled as the homeless, but also not nearly as comfortably affluent as Peter.

Albee’s plays are often referred to as “absurdist,” and that largely describes how Peter allows Jerry into his world, listening intently to this madcap stranger’s stories, which gradually grow darker, more resentful and, finally, threatening. Most people would have simply walked away, but Peter — perhaps desperate for human connection after his dysfunctional marriage nearly collapsed in the first act — lets Jerry take control of the encounter, eventually demanding that Peter cede his beloved bench.

Peter is the straight man in both acts. But he is the glue that holds the play together, and its moral barometer. Albee leaves it up to audience members to decide if his decency and compassion represent strength or weakness. This play will leave you thinking long after you leave the theater.

Dawn D’Arrigo’s stage design consists of two pieces of furniture to represent a living room, and two park benches. A black silk curtain covers the rear of the theater. Imagination does the rest, along with Donald Stark’s sound design (some clatter in Ann’s offstage kitchen, birds chirping in the park). There is no stage, per se. The actors perform a few feet in front of the audience. It is an exhilarating experience, made even more impactful by the quality of these performances, and Frank Licato’s tight, terse direction.

Two caveats: This play is not recommended for children, due to its frank sexual discourse in the first act and its climactic violence in the second. Also, two steep flights of stairs must be climbed to reach the theater.

That said, I can’t recommend this production enough. There is only one week left to catch it — 90 minutes you won’t soon forget.

Hudson Theatre Works is located at 4078 Park Ave. in Weehawken. (Enter the gate on the street and walk around to the rear of the water tower to enter.) “At Home at the Zoo” runs through Nov. 8. For tickets and information, visit hudsontheatreworks.org.

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