Review | ‘Glory of the World’ powerful

• Director Waters deserves accolades for coordinating such a rush of energy, words and bodies on stage
• Merton isn’t portrayed, and there are no snippets of piety and prayer, but an abundance of hijinks
• Moments of silence bookend the production and instill it with context that references Merton’s life

In Charles L. Mee’s new play “The Glory of the World,” Sunday’s audience at Actors Theatre of Louisville witnessed toasts followed by a lot of drinking. At times, men held and lifted those red plastic cups common at college parties, while, at others, men handled liquor bottles. Often this perplexing but fascinating production that made its world premiere in the Humana Festival of New American Plays appeared to be the portrayal of life at a college fraternity with hilarious scenes of pandemonium that could rival those in “Animal House.”

A mention of the National Lampoon film might take some audience members by surprise, given that the production is the result of Actors Theatre of Louisville commissioning Mee to write “The Glory of the World” for the centennial of the birth of Thomas Merton — the Catholic monk, mystic and author of more than 70 books, including the 1948 bestselling autobiography “The Seven Storey Mountain.”

But it all seems befitting by the end of this play, directed by Actors artistic director Les Waters. The premise of this piece is a party to celebrate the birthday of Merton, who made his home at the Abbey of Gethsemani in Bardstown, Ky., from 1941 until his death in 1968. He was electrocuted by an electric fan while on a trip to Thailand.

We learn some of this in the play as the party’s attendees talk about why they admire Merton — for being a Catholic, a Buddhist, a communist, a beatnik and more. The men here project heroic characteristics onto Merton, as others to do with biblical figures. And in their competition to impress, the men quote myriad famous people, from Einstein to Lady Gaga.

Some of the men also mention the untidy details of Merton’s life, such as the illegitimate daughter (who was believed to have died in World War II air raids on London). Of course, there are conflicts here and emotions get in the way (coupled with alcohol). One of the most intense conflicts arises from disagreements about faith. Go figure.

Merton is never portrayed here. Instead of seeing snippets of piety and prayer from the characters, the audience gets an abundance of hijinks — including portions where men couple up, make out and slow dance like kids at a middle-school party; another where they preen and pose in states of partial undress to flaunt their muscles; and an alarming and hilarious scene where they engage in a tit-for-tat kind of warfare involving knives, a chainsaw and more.

That latter scene, like some other instances in this play and other works by Mee, employs a pastiche referencing popular culture. The warfare, for example, is reminiscent to Looney Tunes’ 1950 “Rabbit of Seville” scene where Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd have an arms war starting with axes before moving on to guns, then cannons.

All of this takes tremendous control and energy from the cast that includes eight primary actors and an ensemble of nine others. There is really no point of naming any of them individually, as each member of the ensemble does heavy lifting — often literally.

Waters deserves accolades for coordinating such a rush of energy, words and bodies on stage to create a work that resonates. At times, individual moments come off as odious and aggressive, but there are basic philosophical ideas at work here that can reveal themselves in the mind long after the performance.

The muscle of the cast is set against a rugged, yet simple set designed by Dane Laffrey. It looks like a stage turned inside out and somewhat like a construction site. Its walls are lined with bare plywood and what looks like unpainted drywall. Both appear unfinished and raw. But while it seems far from refined, the set also has an assortment of lights designed and orchestrated by lighting designer Mark Barton. The assortment incorporates all kinds of lighting — from fluorescent to flashing and rotating red lights — that all play their parts to create different moods throughout the play.

At the center is a large garage door that opens after the play gets underway to reveal an assortment of stuff — mounted antelope heads, an ironing board, a refrigerator, an aquarium, a vacuum, a chainsaw, a table tennis set and a pool table among many other things.

What gives the chaos and noise of this play clarity is the lengthy moments of silence that bookend the production. With these, the play finds its yin and yang. During both, director Les Waters walks to center stage and sits in silence under dimmed lights for what amounts to a somewhat uncomfortable length of time. Each time, white-lettered words appear on the walls to each side of him. Some of these words are triggers to alert the audience to its surroundings.

The silence is both welcoming and issues a challenge to be careful to delineate the outside noise from the guiding forces in silence and our own hearts. In his decision to become a monk, Merton seemed to be trying take on those same challenges in his own storied life.

The production of Charles L. Mee’s “The Glory of the World” continues through April 12 as part of Actors Theatre of Louisville’s 39th Humana Festival of New American Plays. Performances are in the Pamela Brown Auditorium at Actors Theatre of Louisville, 316 W. Main St. Tickets are $25 to $74. For more information, call (502) 584-1205 or visit actorstheatre.org.

Reporter Elizabeth Kramer can be reached at (502) 582-4682. Follow her on Twitter at @arts_bureau.