An Apology for the Course and Outcome of Certain Events Delivered by Doctor John Faustus on This His Final Evening (review)

This fall, Chicago-based Theater Oobleck remounted co-founder Mickle Maher’s An Apology for the Course and Outcome of Certain Events Delivered by Doctor John Faustus on This His Final Evening in celebration of the script’s ten-year anniversary. Oobleck’s significance stems from its collaborative process—one that replaces current theatrical norms of hierarchy with true ensemble creation. This model, which has served Maher and other Oobleck regulars for over two decades, acts as an instructive example of collaborative theatre at its most successful. A consideration of the Faustus revival’s rehearsals, design, script, and acting demonstrates the strengths and successes of this egalitarian process.

In an interview with me, Maher discussed Oobleck’s methods. The playwright, Maher argued, brings a unique vision to the rehearsal room and lobbies for his or her position. Actors, however, have the prerogative to change lines and actions, and with no director, Oobleck solicits the opinion of invited observers, known as “Outside Eyes,” to become involved in rehearsals. According to Maher, observer David Isaacson suggested the opening for the remount of Faustus—one that immediately erased the distance between spectator and performer. This choice held great import, because audience inclusion is another crucial aspect of Oobleck’s democratic theatrical experience.

The first moment of design that immediately inserted the audience into the world of the play consisted of keeping a packed group of forty waiting until curtain time in the low-ceilinged, blood-red basement lobby of the Chopin Theatre. Suddenly, Faustus (Colm O’Reilly), dressed in a cheap suit, slid open a door that separated the lobby from the playing space. He sizzled with irritation as he herded viewers to two rows of folding chairs roughly ten feet across from each other in a tight alley. He then slid the door to the lobby closed, producing a dark, sealed-off space. This direct interaction between Faustus and spectators created a claustrophobic environment in which the fictional character mingled with the real audience.

Once in Faustus’s world, spectators saw two folding chairs facing each other on either end of the long-playing space. In the far chair sat a thin man with a sharp face, staring dispassionately; this was Mephistopheles (David Shapiro), who, although a massive presence throughout, never spoke a word. The only light sources came from two orange globes hanging in the alley between the two chairs; beyond the reach of the feeble bulbs, darkness closed in. The chair in which Mephistopheles sat immobile and the chair Faustus left empty as he prowled the room created an atmosphere of contest in which the silent Mephistopheles, like an unholy priest at a public confession, always had the power. Because of the alley configuration, the soft lighting that revealed little beyond the spectators, and the sense that a contest was being judged, the illusion of characters and audience inhabiting the same world was fulfilled, creating the space for Faustus’s hypnotic words, sometimes imploringly delivered at less than arm’s length away.

Colm O’Reilly as Faustus in An Apology for the Course and Outcome of Certain Events Delivered by Doctor John Faustus on This His Final Evening. (Photo: Kristen Basta.)

Colm O’Reilly as Faustus in An Apology for the Course and Outcome of Certain Events Delivered by Doctor John Faustus on This His Final Evening. (Photo: Kristen Basta.)

In Maher’s script, Faustus recounts his last day—one remarkable for his apology to us, the assembled audience. Faustus’s morning began like any other during his past twenty-four years. He awoke to Mephistopheles eating a hard-boiled egg at the foot of his bed and reading his diary. Faustus relates how he raged against his servant, not only because of the mess, but...