Derby Day

The three Ballard brothers who inhabit Samuel Brett Williams' "Derby Day" are each a study in pathology. The siblings, having just buried their father an hour ago, have come together in a luxury box at Oaklawn Racetrack in Hot Springs, Ark. Ostensibly, they are there to enjoy themselves and relive past Derby Day memories, but the playwright has another intention: to put his fractured fraternal trio in a room to slug out—often quite literally—their animosities toward each other. Williams' observation of the Ballard family values makes "Medea" seem tame. The playwright's treatment is so heavy-handed that the results, which are possibly meant to be moving, become risible instead.

The successful eldest brother, Frank (Jared Culverhouse), who has flown in from Chicago, is a recovering alcoholic on his fourth marriage. Ned (Malcolm Madera), recently married, is the play's troublemaker. Johnny (Jake Silbermann), the not-too-bright youngest brother, is the play's innocent, except that he's just been released from prison. Ned begins the games by spiking Frank's Coke and advising him that he slept with Frank's first wife. Thus alcohol-induced revelations become the ticket for this race day. The descent into dysfunction is fast and especially furious as the revelations keep piling up like the debris in the room. The only sane interruptions are when the brothers watch a race together or when waitress Becky (Beth Wittig) delivers more drinks. Becky is the play's one touch of normality in a whirlwind of chaos.

The excess is such that the thought that it's all meant to be comic comes to mind, but this is dispelled by later events. Williams flirts with the theme of winners and losers, having one of his losers, Ned, stating: "Something has to come through. It's America God damn it!" But this purpose soon gets lost in the general hurly-burly.

Director Michole Biancosino certainly gives the production a racing speed; all the damage is done in just 65 minutes. The performers have an exhausting time of it amid the extremist circumstances, but when allowed by the playwright, they do offer some conviction, evident in Culverhouse's stolid Frank, Madera's nasty Ned, and Silbermann's poignant Johnny. Becky is the play's most believable character, and Wittig gives her a touching reality.

Surveying the destruction on stage, Frank's exit line is "We was never a family." But then, we was never a play either.

Presented by Camisade Theatre Company at the Clurman Theatre, 410W. 42nd St., NYC. Dec. 1–17. Wed.–Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 3 p.m. (Additional performances Mon., Dec. 5, and Tue., Dec. 13, 7 p.m.) (212) 239- 6200, (800) 432-7250, or www.telecharge.com.