***/***** (three out of five stars)
In Eric Bogosian’s dark play Humpty-Dumpty, now in its NYC premiere at the Chain Theatre, four city slickers attempt to get away from it all in a remote cabin in the woods, which works a little too well when a power outage knocks out all communications. Each vacationer, writer Max (Kirk Gostkowski); editor Nicole (Christina Elise Perry); movie producer Troy (Gabriel Rysdahl); and actress Spoon (Marie Dinolan), is forced to confront themselves and their relationships, while Nat (Brandon Hughes), the cabin’s caretaker, tries to set everyone’s minds at ease, with varying degrees of success.
First written in 2000, in what we briefly called “the September 10th world,” Humpty-Dumpty was updated following 9/11, a choice that made sense at the time, but somewhat muddies the waters upon revival. The play is specifically set in the fall of 2000, and it should have been allowed to be a true time capsule: lingering Y2K anxieties, a now-quaint concern with “selling out,” ironic enjoyment of pop culture, and hot-pink velour tracksuits (Rafaella Rossi hits the mark with period-appropriate costumes). Casual references to shoe bombers and anthrax-wielding terrorists–which most of us remember only because they followed hard on the heels of 9/11–suggest that either Bogosian or his characters possess an inexplicable clairvoyance. Other lines, for example, “I forgot my Palm Pilot in the Starbucks,” insist a little too firmly on carbon-dating the setting, delivering a forceful elbow to the ribs when a gentle nudge would do.
The cabin itself, designed by David Henderson, is so convincingly cozy, in that out-of-time way specific to vacation rentals (antique kitchen appliances, fully stocked bookshelves, a profusion of macrame), that it is easy to imagine just settling in. Spoon gets into the spirit of things: “I go for walks. I breathe fresh air all day . . . And when it gets dark I go to bed. It’s like a dream come true.” The deterioration of this haven is suggested but not made explicit in the staging.
Kirk Gostkowski provides a grounded performance as Max, a writer whose presentation as a down-to-earth guy is almost immediately wrongfooted when he misidentifies a crescent wrench in front of Nat (who reminds him, for good measure, that Nat himself is no bumpkin relying on The Old Farmer’s Almanac for weather predictions). Max struggles to maintain his composure as his vacation (and this was all his idea, as Nicole reminds him) slips away from him bit by bit before descending into mere anarchy.
Christina Elise Perry, as Nicole, walls herself off from her companions, her focus always on her work, her own status within the group, or her need to micromanage every detail of this disappointing getaway. Her gaze is often fixed in the middle distance rather than on whoever she’s addressing, suggesting that she was over this get-together from the beginning. Gabriel Rysdahl, as Max’s old college buddy Troy, somehow brings fresh comedic notes to Troy’s unctuous yuppie pretension, with a pitch-perfect monologue delivered as his mental state deteriorates. Marie Dinolan, as Spoon, conveys a spacy naivete that could be a defense mechanism–but like everyone else’s defense mechanisms (Max’s man-of-the-people schtick, Nicole’s control-freak facade, Troy’s ecstatic gourmandise), it crumbles in somewhat spectacular fashion. Brandon Hughes, as Nat, is the only one who is comfortable in his skin, secure in his own competence, and connected with a larger community.
As a play, Humpty-Dumpty is more ambiguous than it seems to realize. Ella Jane New’s direction doesn’t come down on one side or the other, even when it would strengthen the play. The vacationers turn their anxiety outward, fretting about terrorists (often), mountain lions, biker gangs, and carnivorous locals, when, Bogosian suggests, the true danger lurks within–except when it doesn’t, in one shocking report from the outside world. The cabin is a sanctuary, except when it’s a trap. Eggshells are strong, except when they are weak. A Y2K communication breakdown is the scariest thing imaginable, except when another nightmare comes along to supplant it. A production that either resolves or recognizes these nuances would have made a stronger case for revisiting the play 25 years later.
Humpty Dumpty. Through May 3 at the Chain Theatre (312 West 36th Street, between Eighth and Ninth Avenues).
