The Taming of The Caretaker 11/10/2003 Patrick Stewart and Kyle MacLachlan in The Caretaker. Photo: Joan Marcus American Airlines Theatre (Selwyn) Last night, the Roundabout Theatre opened, with all of its ambiguities, and pauses, David Jones. revival of Harold Pinter's The Caretaker. The words "menacing" and "disturbing" are ones that are typically used when discussing this play about the power struggles between two brothers and an elderly man who has taken up residence in a run-down flat with them. With this production, however, one feels neither menaced nor disturbed, just slightly perturbed. Pinter's tale still holds its intrigues. The curtain rises on the junk-filled apartment (nicely rendered in John Lee Beatty.s design) and the audience discovers a young man (whom one learns later is Mick) in black leather jacket, sitting silently on one of the two beds in the room, pondering its contents and perhaps something deeper. When he hears footsteps on the stairs to the room, he darts out and in walk Aston, a nattily dressed middle-aged man, and Davies, a elderly man wrapped in a seedy coat fastened by a bit of rope. This make-shift belt and Davies. dilapidated shoes, and trousers that are about two inches too long make him look as if he were not simply down on his luck, but out-and-out homeless. (Costume designer Jane Greenwood provides other astute details such as a bright blue scarf for Aston.) Aston, it would seem, has rescued Davies from the beginnings of a brawl at the caf where the older man worked. Soon, Aston, distracted and aloof, invites Davies to move in until he can settle his affairs; the old man needs to track down some papers that will shore up his insurance as well as his identity. Davies can not even remember where he was born. And identity is one of the cruxes of Pinter.s drama. Who are these men and when are they telling the truth? Aston leads Davies and the audience to believe that the apartment, as well as the ability to invite Davies to stay, rests entirely with him. Mick, once he has returned to the scene, asserts that he is the owner not only of the apartment but the entire building, which he plans to renovate. The ability to have such dreams and its attendant failures and disappointments of dreams are also chief themes here. Aston was once institutionalized and forced to endure shock treatments for his dreams. Davies, after moving in to the flat, disrupts Aston's sleep with the shouts he makes while he sleeps and dreams. It's all a tantalizing, intellectual, existential stew, and yet, oddly, this production seems to drone rather than provoke or unsettle. Director Jones appears to have wanted to lighten the work by exploring the humor that lies in Pinter.s characters and their words. Patrick Stewart (to many Captain Jean Luc Picard, but to theatergoers such a welcome onstage presence) nails Davies. befuddlement and manipulative nature. Watching Stewart as he asks for a pair of shoes and then complains that they aren't right is a joy. However, one tolerates Davies. manipulation much as one would that of a grandparent or elderly aunt or uncle, rather than tensing at this man's life-long training as a grifter. Just as unmenacing in Stewart's portrayal are the character's bigoted rants against blacks, Poles and Greeks at the beginning of the play, rather than using them to give one insight into the violence of which the man might have once been capable. These remarks come out rather benignly, particularly in our P.C. world, and we tolerate them with condescension. As the other "threat" in Pinter.s environment, Aidan Gillen.s Mick comes across not as an unpredictable tiger, but simply as an alley cat with a mean streak. Gillen's wiry frame and rapid movements suggest a certain kind of aggression, but it's cloaked by such a handsome face and demeanor that suggests the need to be liked rather than predatory hunger, that one never feels that either Davies or Aston are at risk. As these two men.s "mark" or ultimate aggressor, Aston, Kyle MacLachlan performs an appropriate level of abstracted disconnection, but it's difficult to grasp what could be best described as the "time delay" in the character. Because of the shock treatments Aston underwent, he complains that he is no longer able to talk to people; that he simply doesn.t process in a normal fashion. The slowness of MacLachlan.s delivery of his lines and his movements underscore this statement, but one never quite witnesses the struggle that such a process must have on the man, making one unsure of how or when he's reacting to the curves thrown by Davies and Aston in Pinter's script. Interestingly enough, the truest curve that one sees on the stage at the American Airlines Theater comes from Beatty.s set and the light thrown through an oil-sack covered window at the back of the set by Peter Kaczorowski lighting design. As days fade into nights and the weather outside changes, a crooked arc cuts across the flat as if a rift in the physical universe. It's a grand metaphor for Pinter's disjointed, menacing world. Tickets to The Caretaker, playing at the American Airlines Theatre (227 West 42nd Street) are $41.25-$66.25 and can be purchased by calling 212-719-1300. Performances are Tuesday through Saturday evenings at 8:00PM with a Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday matinee at 2:00PM. For further information visit www.roundabouttheatre.org. -- Andy Propst Click here to read the original article. [Link may/may not be active]