FIRST, an admission: I’ve never gotten all the way through William Faulkner’s classic “The Sound and the Fury,” with its difficult, stream-of-consciousness style. And after sitting through “The Sound and the Fury” (subtitled “April Seventh, 1928),” the Elevator Repair Service’s adaptation of the novel’s first section, which opened last night, I’m unlikely to try again.
The company, recently praised for “Gatz,” a seven-hour theatrical version of Fitzgerald’s “The Great Gatsby” that didn’t omit a single word of the text, has adopted a similar approach here. The troupe presents the first part of Faulkner’s book about the decline of a once noble Southern family – the section narrated by Benjy, the mute and mentally challenged youngest member – essentially verbatim.
A large ensemble takes turns reciting the text, dutifully following each line of dialogue with “he said” or “she said.” As the action shifts backward and forward in time, the actors switch roles, handing off costumes and props to each other while onstage.
To further advance the production’s avant-garde cred, the performers break into silly dance routines every now and then, with amplified sound effects.
While it’s easy to admire the conviction of company director John Collins and his committed cast, it’s hard to sit through all 2½ hours of what will probably be incomprehensible to those unfamiliar with the book.
This is a “Sound and the Fury” that signifies nothing.
THE SOUND AND THE FURY
New York Theatre Workshop, 79 E. Fourth St.; (212) 239-6200. Through May 18.