“A brown river, mucky with refuse and offal” could describe the flooded streets of New Orleans last Wednesday, but Sidney Kingsley used these words to describe the New York City's East River in the opening stage directions of his 1935 play, “Dead End.”
The revival of this play at the Ahmanson does feature water—the orchestra pit has been converted into a heated pool with clear, inoffensive water that might splash a few front row patrons. The pool is a winsome curiosity as are passages of the script. The language is quite tame by today's standard as is the violence—one suspects Kingsley sanitized both. This amusing production, with its young, shiftless gang of men displaying rippling muscles and jumping gleefully into the water, is a period piece, although the main issues Kingsley raised still remain bitterly relevant. At two hours and 30 minutes with two intermissions, the production is overlong, perhaps because this play no longer shocks with language nor packs the emotional wallop that activated the social conscience of white America seven decades ago.
James Noone designed a grand set that rises high, with dingy, brown brick-like walls and opaquely dirty glass of tenements on the right and, on the left, sparkling off-white marble walls of a posh new building. Incongruous as the set looks, the program notes tell us of a 1931 river house on East 52nd Street that was just so—luxurious, exclusive and filled with glamorous people while serving as a mooring place for yachts. At this oasis amid inner city squalor, the swells enjoy gardens, tennis courts and a pool while their underprivileged neighbors can only enjoy polluted black waters. The rich have discovered the waterfront and its cool breezes during this pre-AC period. Gentrification had begun.
The play opens during the Great Depression. Tommy (Ricky Ullman) leads a pack of boys who look for easy money, food and a little fun. In contrast, an indulged young boy (Benjamin Platt) lives in the luxury apartments, learning French. Kay (Sarah Hudnut), a poor girl lives there, too, with a wealthy patron who might even marry her. The rich look down on the dead end kids from a terrace, venturing onto the streets under the watchful eye of the black doorman (Dohn Norwood).
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