Review: 'Mauritius' delivers taut drama about imperfect people

From left: Beverly Canell (Mary), John McKerrow (Dennis), Val Kuffel (Philip), Bill Bresnan (Sterling) and Dede Brownlee (Jackie) face off over two rare Mauritian Post Office stamps in the Naples Players "Mauritius." Giant replicas of the stamps can be seen above the stage. Photo courtesy the Naples Players

NAPLES — Imperfections, playwright Theresa Rebeck tells us, are what gives stamps their value - six million dollars worth. No wonder tensions run high. Two rare stamps, five damaged individuals and a script full of f-bombs litter the floor during "Mauritius," the Naples Players' latest Tobye Studio offering.

Rebeck's drama, about half-sisters who inherit - and then squabble over - a priceless stamp album, shows traces of her TV background, including stints writing for "NYPD Blue" and "Law & Order: Criminal Intent." "Mauritius" is built around a series of "discussions," each a verbal battleground, usually with control of some physical object, like the stamp album, as an undercurrent.

The play makes no bones of the fact that imperfect people - like imperfect stamps - are valuable, although the playwright offers only veiled hints at what makes her characters tick. Director John McKerrow (who also acts in the show), takes "Mauritius" and elevates the show to a sublime, sinister mix of familial drama, comedy, who's scamming who caper and tense thrill ride. Think of it as "Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels," with stamps.

Dede Brownlee (Jackie) shifts from broken butterfly to steely shark and back with ease. Whether facing off with Bill Bresnan (Sterling) over a valise stacked with cash or Beverly Canell (Mary) in the middle of a room strewn with worthless family mementos, Brownlee brings it. Her character is an enigma - the play annoyingly only hints at reasons for her bitterness - but she mixes vulnerability and a thrust jaw of determination that stands out.

Bresnan, a philatelist/arms dealer, nearly steals the show with a blend of slimy charm and vicious thuggery that would make Tony Soprano proud. His monologue, designed to convince Brownlee's character to part with her treasure, is masterful, hypnotic and convincing: “It is cash, it is under the table, there’s no overhead, there’s no lawyers, there’s no (expletive) accountants here, to drive you and me (expletive) crazy with their nonsense. That’s added value.”

Doing double duty, McKerrow proves charmingly adept as a might be, maybe, is-he-shady, what's-he-really-doing con artist. His scene with Bresnan about ten minutes in - with virtually every other word an unprintable obscenity - jump-starts the night. Far more comic than crass, the scene illustrates how attention to timing, dialogue and delivery can pay off with an audience laughing at little more than a pair of two-bit con men lobbing curse words back and forth over a cheap table. Canell and Val Kuffel (Philip) also have nice moments during the play's numerous confrontation scenes.

Matt Flynn's detailed set is a love affair to philately. Involved scene changes - necessary to transform a shop into a living room - are accompanied by spotlighting huge replicas of various stamps referenced in the dialogue. The house lights dim, traditional Mauritian "sega" music plays and the audience gets a look at what the characters have been squabbling over while the technical crew does things in the dark. The gambit works to direct attention away from the scene change and onto the artistry of the stamps.

"Mauritius" delivers from the opening moments. Brownlee shifts from icy negotiator to wobbly wreck with ease, while McKerrow charms on stage and pulls deft strings behind the curtain. Don't miss the thousand tiny details of the set or Bresnan's vicious, menacing performance.

The 26 surviving Mauritius "Post Office" stamps like those in the play are valued at more than $1M each. Mail me a letter, csilk@naplesnews.com, find me on Twitter at @napleschris or read my Stage Door theater blog.