REVIEWS: Mining the quiet conversations of American life in “The Michaels” and “Dr. Ride’s American Beach House”
Haviland Morris, Brenda Wehle, Maryann Plunkett, and Jay O. Sanders in “The Michaels”. Photo by Joan Marcus.
At a talkback following a performance of his new play, “The Michaels”, at the Public Theater in the East Village, playwright and director Richard Nelson revealed that his impulse to write the play was an observation that the way in which film, television, and theatre reflect American conversations suggests that we are a people in constant argument, shouting at and past one another—a representation that belies the more common truth.
A new entry in his critically acclaimed “Rhinebeck Panorama” series of plays—following the “The Apple Family” quartet (2010-2013) and “The Gabriels” trio (2016)—“The Michaels” is a quiet drama, or rather un-drama, set in the Hudson Valley kitchen of Rose Michael, a retired choreographer now facing the end of her life.
Played out in real time, with a few short jump cuts, over the course of two hours with no intermission, the audience is seated in the round, interloping observers of life unfolding before our eyes as the Michaels family and assorted friends gather for dinner in October 2019, pick up and drop off conversations, share stories and remembrances, dance, and eat.
A newbie encountering Mr. Nelson’s work for the first time, it took me a good thirty minutes to adjust to his style and speed—a naturalism so honest as to appear numbingly banal at casual blush, only to quietly reveal the beauty and richness that lies within the ordinary. By the end, I was so struck by his portrait of this slice of modern-American life, that I felt a raft of melancholy upon having to depart the world he—and his exquisite cast—summoned so radiantly on stage.
Mr. Nelson skillfully combats and rejects the false conventions that make plays require a suspension of disbelief—from monologues to tidy endings—creating in their absence a vivid snapshot of family and community that is paradoxically dull, arresting, and jubilant.
Kristen Sieh and Erin Markey in “Dr. Ride’s American Beach House”. Photo by Ben Aron Photography
Across town in the West Village, Ars Nova presents the world premiere of Liza Birkenmeier’s “Dr. Ride’s American Beach House”—another quiet drama seemingly borne from a similar impulse to capture the quiet conversations and questions of contemporary American life.
Set on a rooftop in Saint Louis on an otherwise ordinary evening in June 1983, the play examines the latently queer friendship between Harriet and Matilda, two thirty-something waitresses and once-aspiring poets trapped in an unfulfilling cycle. Gathering for a regular meeting of the “Two Serious Ladies Book Club” on the eve of Sally Ride’s historic flight into space, time is passed with beer, cigarettes, the constant hum of the radio, flirty and combative conversation, and absolutely no talk of literature (or men, kinda).
Joined later by Meg, a butch lesbian replete with a buzzcut and boots, the three dance (sometimes literally) around questions of identity, power, and belonging—against the backdrop of one woman, a closeted lesbian, making history. Norma, the landlady, a bundle of repression who is interested in “safety” and “money”, makes a few appearances along the way.
Ms. Birkenmeier gracefully weaves a compassionate look at women on the verge of self-discovery, pushing beyond the strictures of societal norms and expectations to live authentically and free but, still on the verge. The dramatization is dexterous and quiet, but nonetheless powerful and even revolutionary.
Two plays of very different substance trade in the same, refreshing approach of eschewing bombast and declaration for delicacy and introspection, crafting humane portraits of American life more akin to our lived experiences and, in the process, holding a mirror up to reveal the depth and beauty to be found in quiet conversations. At once prosaic and haunting, “The Michaels” and “Dr. Ride’s American Beach House” are two gems of the fall season.
