Dawn

BOOZE CLUES Bamman tries to hide his addiction.

Five indelible, wordless minutes near the break of Dawn set the tone for what’s to come: A balding, bibulous middle-aged businessman cracks a case of Bombay gin, hastily stashes a few bottles around the stage, then methodically empties the remainder into a plastic water jug, two Poland Spring bottles and his own greedy gullet for a chaser. This extended moment has the blunt force of documentary realism; it also dares you to laugh. Whether you take that dare or not is a good indication of how much you will enjoy this latest visit to the unsettled world of Thomas Bradshaw, where people misbehave without the cushion of guilt or the filter of psychology.

At first glance, this is a disarmingly straightforward recovery drama, as aging alcoholic Hampton (Gerry Bamman) gets a stab at reformation after his drinking literally stops his heart. His adult son Steven (Drew Hildebrand), himself in recovery, arrives to steer Dad into AA with disturbingly glib zeal. Other reparations aren’t so easy: Daughter Susan (Irene Walsh) is hoarse with barely contained rage, and neither Hampton’s current wife nor his ex trusts him, even in acquiescence. No wonder this sad sack keeps praying to that higher power.

Under Jim Simpson’s nuanced but unequivocal direction, Bamman—balding, sloe-eyed, looking a bit like Fred Thompson’s unassuming younger brother—is a perfectly unprepossessing lead for Bradshaw’s bitter, inexorable tragedy. You may find this droopy drunk funny, but the laugh is sure to stick in your throat like the toothpick in a martini olive.