Kerry Kazmierowicztrimm (who sometimes trims his classic Polish handle to “Kerry Kaz”) is a playwright who bears watching. His
Wounded, an award-winner at the recent Hollywood Fringe, deserved its praises. He has a knack for setting people in tight situations, where their rubbing up against one another will produce not only friction but insight, as each one’s outer layers fall away.
Wounded investigates the deep injuries everyone suffers when there’s a war on. His newest work, Gray People, occurs in a more abstract, less specific world; think of the distance between one of Pinter’s precise domestic settings and the somewhere in which a Beckett play happens.
The characters in Gray People stand — literally — on the edge of the grave. But it’s one they’ve dug, for unknown occupants. The corpses are to come from their employer, whom they know only as “Mr. Z.” People who work for him aren’t supposed to know each other’s names either, or anything about one another.
Thus far, Kazmierowicztrimm has set us a familiar conundrum rather like a Kafka tale. We recognize this reduced world, folks poised like us between life and death, working like us at jobs that fit into a system we may not understand, for purposes we might not like.
We also connect with the simple-hearted character who can’t hide his name, nor his eagerness to connect with the others. And we feel the veteran gravedigger’s fierce attempt to hold within the rules. And we can’t help liking the newcomer’s plucky willingness to challenge the others, and the mysterious rules of this grim game.
Of course, they rub each other raw, and everything comes out. The climax, and the steps on the journey to it, are never predictable — what each person reveals changes the game. And the outcome is, if not satisfying, one we can accept as necessary, perhaps inevitable.
Kazmierowicztrimm’s investigation here is into truth-telling, hiding truth, and outright lying — and the consequences of all of the above. Once having seen his inquiry unfold, you may want to watch it again to see what you missed or overlooked.
The folks at Force of Nature give this tight script one of their best productions so far. The set — by Jeff G. Rack, Redetha Deason, and Jerry Chapell — is understated and brilliant: gray flat tree shapes repeated so we see a forest, but also see it as off, wrong, ominous. Jonathan Agurcia’s costumes deftly denote each character both socially and personally. And Sebastian Muñoz’s direction keeps everything moving, and the lines of tension tightening.
The actors are all highly skilled (that deep, deep LA talent pool again!). Kyle Felts, who always seems to anchor the stage, was diffident and vulnerable in Wounded; here, he seethes with barely caged rage as a man pressed into a life he did not choose. Walter Kartman exudes innocent energy, blissfully unaware of his impact; his defenses can shatter like candy shells, but he rebounds like a puppy. And Olivia Lemmon slides among them like a leopard in a tree, at times disappearing, at times insisting on being seen, taken seriously, responded to.
Gray People is part Beckett, and part Coen Brothers: Nothing human goes as planned. And why should it? If there were gods, they would be laughing. Instead there’s us, often laughing, often (unlike the gods) surprised.
Kazmierowicztrimm is a prolific writer, so we can expect to see more from him. And we certainly hope to again see Force of Nature so sharply on their game. As for Gray People, it merits a longer life on stage than the current half-dozen performances. (Perhaps Force of Nature will extend it? To be safe, get to The Belfry quickly.)
Gray People, by Kerry Kazmierowicztrimm, directed by Sebastian Muñoz.
Presented by Force of Nature Productions at The Belfry Stage, 11031 Camarillo St., North Hollywood 91602.
Fridays and Saturdays at 8:30
through Nov. 16.