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Lemonade
Winterizing The Summer House
In Search of Red River Dog |
A
Child's Guide To Innocence
Song of Grendelyn
The Laramie Project Cabin Fever (North Fork) |

THEATER REVIEW; Three Sisters, With No
Chekhov in Sight
By NEIL GENZLINGER
Published: July 17, 2005
THE
New Jersey Repertory Company may never win the Tony Award for
regional theater, but it deserves some kind of prize for sheer
unpredictability. Its last show here, ''Ten Percent of Molly
Snyder,'' was as whacked-out a comedy as New Jersey is likely
to see this year. But its new show, ''A Child's Guide to Innocence''
by Vincent Sessa, is as delicate and nuanced a drama as you'll
find, its three actresses telling a sublime intergenerational
tale beautifully.
At the center of it is Catherine Eaton as Frances,
whom we first meet in Brooklyn in 1944. She is the oldest of
three sisters, and of course it is wartime and there is a brother
overseas. Corey Tazmania and Deborah Baum play Frances' sisters
in the opening vignette, but by the final segment of Mr. Sessa's
intriguingly structured triptych they are playing her grandchildren,
and it is 1995. We don't see much of Frances' life over this
51-year span -- the play's middle segment is set in 1975 -- but
somehow by the end we know a lot about her, and about those she
loved and lost.
Mr. Sessa's inspired stroke is to tackle almost
nothing head-on. Indeed, it takes a while in the opening segment
for a story to catch hold -- the sisters are so chirpy (far chirpier,
in fact, than any real sisters would be) that they're hard to
listen to. Gradually, though, it sinks in that their brother
is missing in action and what we're seeing is their collective
defense mechanism; each copes with the news differently.
Even
so, though, Mr. Sessa stays away from anything overt; the first
segment remains a collection of fragments. It's a deliberate
device and an effective one; not until 31 years later, in a harrowing,
heartbreaking monologue by Ms. Eaton midway through the play,
does he let all the pieces coalesce, and the waiting makes the
moment all the more powerful.
''A Child's Guide'' becomes irritatingly
New Age-y at times (''I think a table has a soul when a family
sits at it''), and the final segment, with its ''greatest generation''
references and Frances in a coma, feels a bit shopworn. But in
general Mr. Sessa shows great restraint, as does the director,
Dana Benningfield; they don't try to do too much with the story,
and thereby do quite a lot. It's a lovely portrait of how ordinary
lives can be defined by a few pivotal moments, of how the world's
great events can have a profound impact at a very small, personal
level.
''A Child's Guide to Innocence'' continues through Aug.
14 at the New Jersey Repertory Company, 179 Broadway, Long Branch,
(732)229-3166, www.njrep.org. |
Drama
depicts three ages of 'Innocence'
Published in the Asbury Park Press 07/13/05
BY TOM CHESEK
CORRESPONDENT
(STAFF
PHOTO: MICHAEL SYPNIEWSKI)
Corey Tazmania (left),
Catherine Eaton (center) and Deborah Baum star
in "A Child's Guide to Innocence" at the New Jersey
Repertory Company in Long Branch.
|
"Something is happening to us somewhere — but not here," intones first-generation
Italian-American Francie (Catherine Eaton) at more than one point during Vincent
Sessa's "A Child's Guide to Innocence," the drama now in its world-premiere engagement
at New Jersey Repertory Company in Long Branch.
Francie (or Frances or even Francesca, as she's variously branded throughout)
could be commenting upon the fact that the dramatic peaks of her family's history — the
births, the deaths, the challenges of forging a new life in a strange place — mostly
occur offstage, or in a time frame separate from that in which the characters
are interacting.
Unseen, too, are the men who figure prominently in Francie's life — her husband,
her neighborhood grocer Papa, her seaman brother Johnny — although these absent
characters are vividly invoked at times through reminiscence and a bit of playful
imitation.
As it turns out, much of "A Child's Guide" revolves around what's not there — the
missing persons, misplaced objects and unspoken secrets taking center-stage prominence
over the more mundane details of what at first glance appears to be a largely
uneventful life. What we do have on display (in a production directed by NJ Rep
regular Dana Benningfield) are snapshots of a 50-year span in the life of a woman
who's spent a lot of time "praying that God doesn't lose interest in me" — a
woman who comes late to the realization that it's impossible to make it through
the present while living in the past.
The Brooklyn-born Sessa's script opens in the wartime summer of 1944, with Francie
and her sisters Catherine (Corey Tazmania) and Marion (Deborah Baum) in tentative
mourning over brother Johnny, gone missing from the naval vessel on which he
was stationed. Adding to the anxiety is the fact that Francie's beau also is
off to fight the good war — and assuming a bizarre prominence is the apparent
loss of a glass crystal decoration from a table lamp, an object variously described
as a "prism" and a "star."
Then again, certain objects take on a special significance in this play, tinged
as it is with a realism that's distinctly more magical than matter-of-fact. The
family dinner table is said to possess a soul, celery plays a recurring role
in the proceedings and the eventual rediscovery of the glass "star" treats the
bargain-store bauble with the deference normally granted some talisman out of
Tolkien.
A saga of bonds
In fact, you'd do well to check all preconceptions of what this
play is all about at the door. Playwright Sessa has cited the script
as "autobiographical" in its origin with his own Italian-American
family members, but if you're anticipating a lot of caricature "fuhgeddaboutit" accents
and expecting the action to be punctuated by busy kitchen scenes,
then get thee instead to a venue that's showing "The Godfather's
Meshuggenah Wedding." While the actresses occasionally affect a
Lawn Guyland inflection or two and Papa Luigi hovers just this
side of tangibility, it's first and foremost a saga of bonds that
can never be severed — of words and deeds that resonate across
time, of ordinary lives that have a profound influence.
What it's not is a true ensemble piece. While Tazmania and Baum lend solid
support in their triple-duty roles as sisters, daughters and grandchildren,
it's indisputably Francie's story. Eaton, onstage for every moment of this
no-intermission production, fixes her pale blues toward the audience and conjures
things from V-E Day in Times Square to the fate of her sailor brother — as "unstuck
in time" as Kurt Vonnegut's Billy Pilgrim, with the Great War every bit as
much at the center of her being.
Carrie Mossman's set design — a slightly surreal amalgam of 1944 store, 1975
dining room and 1995 bedroom — suggests as well that it's Francie's head we're
looking into, appropriate to a show that captures the liquid flow of time and
memory (and reminds us that very few people in this life are afforded an "intermission" to
change into their future selves). Company veterans Jeff Knapp and Jill Nagle
provide a music-and-lighting environment that's smoothly cinematic and fitting
with the often dreamlike quality of the production — although a climactic oooh-aaah
effect is arguably not a necessity.
Director Benningfield has been quoted to
the effect of having taken a less-is-more approach to Sessa's
play, trimming expository lines and pitching the material as "more universal than just the Italian-American experience." With her first
full-length professional production, Benningfield makes some intriguing choices — and
reminds us that New Jersey Repertory remains a laboratory in which new works
come to evolve, often right before our eyes. |
The LINK NEWS
July 14, 2005
Theater Review By Madeline Schulman
"A Child's Guide to Innocence," by Vincent Sessa, is a beautiful
and touching play, designed to move and delight an audience. Running
at the New Jersey Repertory Company, on Broadway in Long Branch,
this family history is wonderfully acted by Catherine Eaton, Corey
Tazmania and Deborah Baum, and splendidly directed by Dana Benningfield.
An actress herself, the director brings out the nuances of the
characters as they re-live three days, but decades apart.
Eaton serves as the connecting thread, playing the same woman
at 21, 51, and 71, as she believable changes from young woman to
matron to older woman without altering makeup or costume. Her two
co-stars each cleverly morph into three very different characters,
appearing first as her sisters, then as her daughters, and finally
as her granddaughters.
The action starts in a Brooklyn grocery store in June, 1944, at
the height of the war (WWII) as sisters Francie, Catherine and
Marian wait for news of their brother Johnny, lost at sea, and
Francie, the oldest, longs for letters from her fiance, Freddy.
They vacillate between hope that Johnny has survivied and fear
that he has not.
The events of that day echo through the years in the second and
third scenes, as the years pass and we learn how that day in 1944
has affected the family's life. Throughout, the dialog is leavened
with flashes of humor - while describing the movie "Jaws" one daughter
says she would need a "horse Valium" to go swimming in the ocean
at night. A granddaughter, challenged to identify Charles Lindbergh,
mutters, "He invented the Lindy?"
One symbol throughout the play, as evocative as Laura's unicorn
in "The Glass Menagerie," is a piece of glass which dangles from
a hurricane lamp, variously described by the characters as a star
or a prism. We learn in the first scene that it is missing, but
not how or why. Just as we learn Johnny's fate and Freddy's, we
do find out the significance of the prism, and as a star or prism
should, it scatters a light on all that has gone before.
The single set serves equally well as a grocery store, Long Island
dining room, and grandmother's bedroom.
"A Child's Guide to Innocence" is highly recommended as an emotional
and intellectual pleasure. |
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