by AMY BARRATT

Two acts. Six scenes. Two-and-a-half hours of kitchen sink realism represented by real water flowing into the kitchen sink. Who writes plays like this anymore? Vittorio Rossi, that’s who.

In an age of experimental theatre, collective creations and solo shows, it’s hard not to see Montrealer Rossi as an anachronism, a throwback to an earlier age—but when that bygone age is a golden one, why not be a throwback to it? Rossi writes the kind of serious, character-driven dramas—with smatterings of levity—that thrived on Broadway from the ’30s to the 50s.

As I wrote last year reviewing his Hellfire Pass, it’s nice to see solid dramatic structure and good meaty roles for actors: those things never go out of style. Rossi’s skill as a storyteller is even more evident in the sequel to Hellfire, Carmela’s Table, which opened last week at Centaur. Set in 1957, it continues a story inspired by Rossi’s own family.

Richard Zeppieri returns in the role of Silvio Rosato, an Italian war veteran who has settled in Montreal with his wife, Carmela (Anita La Selva), mother Filomena (Mary Long), two young daughters and an infant son (named Luciano in the play, the baby represents the future playwright).

Dramatically, Hellfire suffered a bit from Rossi’s determination to honour his father’s memory. When Silvio went to Chicago to confront the father who abandoned his wife and children, there was little ambiguity about who was right and who was wrong.

Carmela’s Table takes place a year later in and around the Rosato family home in Ville Emard, and in this play, we see Silvio warts and all. He suffers from night terrors triggered by wartime memories; what we now would call Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome also causes him to fly into uncontrollable rages in his waking hours. Silvio is not an easy guy to live with, but then neither is his formidable mother, Filomena. The two are seemingly locked in a battle to the death over events of a dozen years past.

If anyone is idealized in this play, it is Carmela, a figure of patience and abundance with a core of steel. Family friends Dave (Guido Cocomello), a police officer, and Neva (Nadia Verrucci), a hospital receptionist, worry what will happen to the family if Silvio doesn’t learn to control himself, but Carmela believes she alone can give him what he needs. Nowadays, we’d call this relationship co-dependent, but in Rossi’s handling this is ultimately a marriage of equals, with no victims.

My only quarrel with the production is in its staging, which, in reinforcing the realism of the writing, sometimes paradoxically works against it. Whether it’s the fake tomatoes glued into a basket or the motionless rubber baby constantly being passed around, we keep being reminded of the artifice of theatre, and not in a good way. I would love to see a production of this play that would give centre stage to the writer’s words and cut out 90 per cent of the business.

Kitchen sink or no, Carmela’s Table is a palpable hit, sure to be held over, as was Hellfire Pass, beyond the scheduled four-week run.

Carmela’S Table, to Oct. 29 At Centaur Theatre
(453 St-François-Xavier), 288-3161

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