This Holiday’s No Picnic By Tom Wachunas Seat Of The Pants Productions and ThePlain Local Community Center For The Arts present Picnic, by William Inge, in the Black Box Theatre, located in GlenOak High School, 1801 Schneider St. NE, Canton, Ohio / August 28- 30/ Fridayand Saturday at 8 p.m., Sunday afternoon at 2 / Tickets are $16 for adults and$12 for students, and can be purchased at www.translationsart.com/picnic A recurring soundin this production of William Inge’s 1953 Pulitzer Prize-winning play, Picnic, is that of the plaintive whistlefrom a passing train. Signaling both a place left behind and a futuredestination, the sound becomes a role unto itself - a haunted harbinger of jarringchanges that transpire in a Kansas small town neighborhood preparing for apicnic (which, ironically enough, we never actually see) on a sweltering LaborDay. Once again,director Craig Joseph (with several notable past Canton Players Guildproductions to his credit) shows his remarkable acuity for drawing out compellingrealism from his cast members. They truly own their roles, imbuing Inge’slanguage - which on paper can sometimes seem hoakey and histrionic – withvisceral authenticity. Additionally, The Black Box Theatre is made all the moreintimate by Micah Harvey’s artful set that cuts across the floor so that we inthe audience, viewing it from two sides, feel like neighbors peering into theshared back yard where most of the story unfolds. Justin Edenhofferplays Hal, a scruffy, college-dropout drifter who rolls into town like a Kansastwister. For all of his bad-boy strutting and shirtless posing, he’scomplicated and essentially an egomaniac with an inferiority complex. Mr.Edenhoffer embodies Hal’s lithe sexuality and swagger with masterful agilityeven as he realizes his shortcomings. He’s hired by the amiable Helen, who isapt to see the best in anyone - and played here with a spirit of wisdom andendearing tenderness by Kathy J. Boyd - to do handy work around her house whereshe cares for her (unseen) ailing mother. Living next door are her neighbors,single-mom Flo (April Deming), her two daughters, 18 year-old Madge (Anna Gallucci) and youngersister Millie (Natalie Welch), and a school teacher tenant, Rosemary (JackiDietz). Anna Gallucci’sMadge - the proverbial prettiest girl in town - is an arresting portrait ofmelancholy and vulnerability as she negotiates an identity crisis. When Flocomplains that Madge spends too much time in front of the mirror, Madge repliesthat it’s only because she wonders if she even exists beyond the physical beautythat everyone else is so crazy about. When she hears that lonely train whistle,she imagines journeying to a place freed from the constricting conventions oflife in rural Kansas, and finally liberated from her mother’s agenda for her tomarry the sophisticated, clean-cut and monied Alan (Tim Carmany), Hal’s formerfraternity brother. She’s perfectly positionedto fall for Hal’s “dangerous” charms, if only because he (of all people!) seesher not as a pretty doll to be coveted and claimed, but a real person to becherished. As the dotingmother Flo, April Deming effectively exudes quiet desperation and pensiveurgency, eager for Madge to marry into a life she herself couldn’t acquire.Meanwhile, Natalie Welch nails the role of the scholarly tomboy Millie,resentful over all the attentions paid to her older sister, with an infectious,animated mix of sass and woundedness. Some delightfulmoments of comic relief are provided by Jacki Dietz, playing Rosemary, alongwith Angeleina Valentine and Jeannie Clarkson, who play Irma and Christine respectively,Rosemary’s chatty teacher compatriots. Dietz is also central in some of theplay’s most emotionally volatile scenes. In one, fueled by a few swigs ofbootleg whiskey, she unleashes an explosive verbal assault on Hal - ano-holds-barred condemnation of everything she finds objectionable about him.Later, she surrenders her dignity in a pathetic plea for marriage to herreluctant suitor, Howard (Andrew Knode), a plainspoken if not clueless storeowner. Particularly memorable there is Knode’s demeanor of numbed acquiescencein the face of Dietz’s euphoria. In his role of Alan, Tim Carmany renders aconvincing transformation – from an initially genuine enthusiasm at his reunionwith Hal, through growing irritation at Hal’s bravado, and ultimately intodevastating heartbreak over Hal’s inevitable seduction of Madge. Indeed, theoperative energy in this story is inevitability.In the end, you get the sense that even for young Millie, earlier teased and harassedby the gadfly paperboy named Bomber (Kyle Burnett), romance waits somewhere inthe wings. Picnic isn’t just a dated snapshot of1950s Midwestern life tinged with despondency and sexual repression.Alternately poignant and searing, it is a timeless reminder that in any questfor real personhood, the only certainty is change itself. Dreams can be bornand broken with all the regularity of a train running right on time. For other commentaries by Tom Wachunas onthe performing and visual arts in the Canton area, please visit ARTWACH, at www.artwach.blogspot.com