EdFringe Review: 44 Minutes

Technical teething issues aside, Lev Steinberg’s 44 Minutes is a compelling psychological thriller which defies easy analysis. Pitched somewhere between an M. Night Shyamalan movie and The Crucible, the play opens on four men locked in a cage. Three know who they are; one — after he regains consciousness — has no idea.

The cogent trio — John Billingsley’s compassionate married store-keeper, Dorian Missick’s kill-or-be-killed ex-cop, and a thoughtful student played by Matthew Petrick — share a similar story of abrupt, seemingly motiveless kidnap. The disoriented fourth occupant of the cage, played with atavistic energy by Christopher Ryan, offers virtually nothing, not even a name.

It’s a credit to Steinberg’s writing that the conversations which take place in this weird, incredibly stressful set-up remain rational, unforced, and unsensational. Though kept to a minimum, there’s even a little dark humour tossed in here and there. The right questions are asked: what, why, who? Those answers being unavailable, attention invariably turns inwards, and towards the ‘other’ in the cage. Is he somehow the secret to their situation? Does he know something he’s not sharing?

Director Michael DeFillipis shows a sure hand throughout this opening gambit, upping the strangeness through blue lighting, and letting the characters continually underline their personalities as they spark off one another. Then matters take a turn towards SAW, the lighting turning demonic red as a disembodied voice announces that three of the four will be new disciples of whatever or whoever they are. The fourth, selected by the group, will be left to die.

“Lev Steinberg’s 44 Minutes is a compelling psychological thriller which defies easy analysis…”

They have, you guessed it, 44 minutes to make their choice — and the big clock above the cage starts ticking.

Standout Performances and Sparky Chemistry

The cast are uniformly excellent, the text tripping from their tongues with the ready fluency that belies the play’s debut status. Suddenly being the ‘other’ in the group looks a lot like a death sentence; the four embark on a quasi-philosophical quest to decide who it is. The first-rate cast assembled enjoy a sparky chemistry which will only grow the more this new show is performed.

For the main part, there’s no forced conversation simply to serve the plot, and it seems very possible that the mysterious stranger will manage to pass the poisoned chalice to the cop after he shows himself capable of untamed cruelty. If I had one note, I would say all four pay far too little attention to the doomsday clock behind them — it should be a driver of anxiety, and yet sits above the drama mostly, it seems, for the benefit of the audience.

At some point, the student brings up the “Five Monkeys Experiment” thought experiment, which suggests groups will learn to punish those who break from tradition, even if the benefits or costs of observing it have been forgotten. Maybe the stranger and his strange ways have more value than an ex-cop who won’t explain why he’s no longer on the force. Maybe.

It’s only towards the final minutes that the dialogue diverges towards a conclusion at odds with the discussions to that point. Why has the student suddenly burst into evangelicalism? Is the stranger’s seeming ability to read the student’s mind pointing to an explanation plucked from science-fiction realms?

The answer is something other, and kudos to the writer for planting a definitely, thoroughly logical ending on a play that could have wandered into mysterious irresolution. Without spoiling matters, Steinberg and DeFillipis want us to decide who the monsters are, so that our censure will underline an abrupt torrent of context. Are the final minutes gripping? Yes. Is it rather manipulative? You bet. Yet, this manipulation forces the audience directly into the play’s core ethical dilemma.

In the end, I hope it sends audiences away to meditate on the meaning of justice, but I worry that proceedings push so hard to conflate justice with vengeance that nuance may be a victim of its theatrical success. I only know that I left the auditorium rather unsettled by the stirrings of mob condemnation.