Shows like Colossal demonstrate exactly why Dallas is so lucky to have the Wyly Theatre. The versatile space is rendered nearly unrecognizable by director Kevin Moriarty and set designer John Coyne—and that’s a big reason why Andrew Hinderaker’s football play works so well.
Coming up the stairs from the lobby, you can hear the crash of cymbals, pounding of drums, and tweeting of a coach’s whistle before you see the green turf. Padded-up football players jog through warm-ups, leaping to catch spiraling balls and dropping occasionally to knock out a couple push-ups. The screen that normally shields the theater from Flora St. is initially raised, giving the audience an unobstructed view of the adjacent Winspear and what has to be a curious tableau to passers-by outside.
An electronic clock ticks down four quarters on the gigantic scoreboard, a set piece that figures heavily into Hinderaker’s script. For as Mike (Zack Weinstein) enters the stage in his motorized wheelchair (which the actor uses in real life) and presses a button on a remote control, time freezes—literally, with players suspended mid-air. It’s difficult to articulate how well the manipulation of time is conveyed through movement, but kudos to the focused cast and choreographer Joshua L. Peugh for this bit of physical magic (and later, others).
Mike watches as his dreams (and body) are crushed by an impulsive and ill-advised block. The former University of Texas captain now uses his injury to educate players, but it’s clear just how difficult it is to be around these sporty Adonises.
That’s because he can’t ever escape his younger self, a muscled and cocky Alex Stoll who follows him and challenges his defeatist attitude. Not only is Mike struggling with painful physical therapy (Steven Walters does what he can with a one-note character), but he’s struggling to reconnect with his father, a famous dancer who previously shunned Mike’s gridiron aspirations.
Joel Ferrell’s Damon is another of Hinderaker’s characters that doesn’t seem entirely finished. He exists simply as a foil to Mike, the athlete who punishes his body to create art and doesn’t understand why his son punished his for touchdowns. We, however, learn the reason pretty early on: Marcus (Khris Davis).
As Mike’s co-captain, he’s a dangerous object of fascination, a tentative and tender step toward identifying hidden romantic feelings. As is the theme of this play, we don’t see or understand nearly enough of Marcus, only the narrow view that Mike presents us. Luckily Weinstein and Stoll are fascinating as they act in tandem, giving at least one character a deep and fully fleshed-out personality.
Though slight, Hinderaker’s script is powerful. When paired with Moriarty and Peugh’s innovative staging ideas, it’s even sublime, giving Dallas Theater Center a touchdown of a production.
