By Stuart Miller…
Two damaged souls seek solace together while also pushing and prodding at each other’s wounds.
In “Lowcountry,” playwright Abby Rosebrock explores both the potential for hope and for disaster when someone who appears to have been grievously wounded by life seeks intimacy with someone who may have caused a grievous wound. After a slow start and before a frustratingly contrived and incoherent ending, there’s a fascinating two-hander about relationships amongst and between the exceedingly damaged, a play that raises questions without seeking to provide answers.
The show, directed by Jo Bonney, is set in small-town South Carolina. It opens with David (Babak Tafti) juggling cooking for a date while lying on the phone about his plans to his sponsor Paul (Keith Kupferer). Paul is something of a bully– he helps David in many ways but constantly holds reminds him of that and wields his power without subtlety, a contrast exacerbated by the fact that Paul is white and David is brown. (He was born overseas but was adopted at age two months and is a citizen, though Paul likes to act as if he’s on the verge of being deported.)
So, even though it’s clear that David has done something seriously wrong– Paul refers to him as both a “sex pest” and a “sex addict”–and even though we see him blatantly and repeatedly lying to Paul, Tafti’s charms and Rosebrock’s writing puts us on his side as we wait for his date.
That’s an intriguing and uncomfortable set-up but the opening scene goes on too long with too much exposition and stage business, while Paul’s dialogue through speakers (pretending to be through a cell phone) lacks clarity.
But when Tally (Jodi Balfour) shows up the play crackles with nervous energy, thanks in part to Balfour’s performance– she excels at seeming uncomfortable in her own skin but exceedingly comfortable making David, and us, squirm, with grand gestures or awkward moves, seething asides or unnerving revelations.
David is at least attempting to take responsibility for what he did to get him fired from his teaching and coaching job, end his marriage and land him on the sex offender list.He’s driven by a definite goal– to regain visiting rights to the young son he loves– and he’s more honest and open with Tally than he expected to be. He even has a self-awareness about what he’s doing to himself as he takes each step down a slippery slope with Tally.
(David’s misbehavior was nowhere near as bad as what the characters did in “Downstate,” Bruce Norris’ discomfiting look at pedophelia; that may be a bit of a copout by Rosebrock, who wants us to have a rooting interest, but it also feels realistic).
But Tally feels like she’s trying to dive down said slope, and she prefers to do it with a blindfold on. She’s quick to blurt out her lifetime of hurts and hints elliptically at sexual escapades that seemingly range from unhealthy to unsafe (sometimes she was in the role of the victim, but sometimes, she protests strongly, she was the seductress, the conqueror).
Their banter would seem merely flirtatious, except they’re volleying back and forth about critiques of 12-step programs (which Tally calls cults) and capitalism and the carceral system, so every comment is freighted with reminders of what each is struggling with and what the stakes are. The discomfort it creates is riveting and we ultimately empathize with both David and Tally even as you may want to pull them apart and lecture each about the help they need to get.
The problem is that Rosebrock puts them in a sensual pas de deux without a clear way toward a satisfying climax; once they tumble into bed, it’s clear that Paul will arrive as a deux ex machina (he clearly sees himself as a god here), which is formulaic but could have been fine but the final confrontation is a mess and thoroughly unsatisfying. It’s the kind of ending that makes you think this is a play that needed more readings and at least another draft– there is definitely something worthy there for most of the running time and all it needs is a crisper start and a smarter finish.
“Lowcountry” is playing at the Atlantic Theater through July 13th. It runs ninety minutes without intermission.
Photo credits: Ahron R. Foster
