Roadkill Confidential

Photo: Carl Skutsch

Trevor is the stereotypical tortured and misunderstood artist, unable to satisfyingly connect with her lover or anyone else. In real life such people tend to be tiresome, but Trevor—though like everyone else here a very consciously written character—is written and played so well (by Sheila Callaghan and Rebecca Henderson respectively) that she's unceasingly interesting to watch, whether squirming silently in front of the war-blasting TV, politely seething during one of her neighbor's uninvited visits, or monologuing to the camera so that her face appears in creepy, giant video closeup.

Do her activities at her rural studio go beyond the merely disgusting (collecting roadkill and incorporating it into art installations) to include something more sinister? A cocksure FBI agent is on the scene to try and find out. Projection is used smartly and integrally throughout the production; kudos must also go to director Kip Fagan, whose overall vision keeps this talky piece moving smoothly, and to the artistic mastery of the tech crew.

Excerpted from Theater Review (NYC): Roadkill Confidential on Blogcritics.