NY Review: 'Cowboy Mouth'

"Make yourself at home. There's wine in the back." With these instructions from the house manager, we are invited to drink in the world of "Cowboy Mouth." Set—and staged—in a small, hot New York bedroom, a young and oversexed couple, Slim (Geoffrey Pomeroy) and Cavale (Diana Beshara), hash out the end of their steamy but broken love affair. With the strange, poetic language that comes from long and isolated lovemaking, Slim and Cavale distract themselves from the reality of their demise. They tell each other stories, act out scenes, play music, and order Chinese food from the Lobster Man (about whom I will say little, except that he's played fervently by Matthew Mark Stannah).

The original Slim and Cavale were Patti Smith and Sam Shepard, who wrote the script together in their star-crossed bedroom at the Chelsea Hotel to mark the end of their short relationship. They performed the play in 1971 for a brief run before Shepard left Smith for good. Despite this autobiographical beginning, "Cowboy Mouth" stands on its own as a dynamic and at times wrenching examination of the inextricability of love and fantasy.

Pomeroy and Beshara never quite give in to the loose, playful naturalism that the play requires. Their performances are self-conscious and high-strung, as though desperate for us to like them. Beshara is too sweet by half to sell the edgy, possessive Cavale, while Pomeroy is all volume and no depth, though he plays a mean electric guitar.

Thankfully, director Leah Benavides has surrounded them with a perfect production. Bringing the audience into an apartment rather than a theater, with windows overlooking the streets and regular intrusions by urban noise, balances the intimacy of the story with the heat, sweat, and real-world dirtiness of the characters. The bedroom is filled with the accouterments of 1970s intellectual bohemia. Volumes of Proust and Baudrillard lie on the floor, striking art and scattered lines of poetry dot the walls, a drum stands next to a giant animal's skull and beneath an old chandelier. Clothing hangs on a laundry line, with which Benavides turns the couple's many costume changes into an elaborate but understated choreography. Despite the off-pitch performances, Benavides' careful direction and Smith and Shepard's casual brilliance keep this "Cowboy Mouth" howling.

Presented by One Old Crow Productions at the Salon Apartment Above Lucky Cheng's, 24 First Ave., NYC. June 7–22. Mon.–Thu., 8 p.m.; Fri., 8 and 10 p.m.; Sun., 5 p.m. (No performances Mon. and Tue., June 18 and 19.) (800) 838-3006 or www.brownpapertickets.com.