Through Sun 11/11
How do you talk about a mysterious play without spoilers, when seeing it without preconceptions was part of the joy you experienced? It’s one of many conundrums in trying to review Annie Baker’s JOHN, now playing in a gorgeous production at Dobama.
Baker, author of winner of a MacArthur “genius” grant, is an essential contemporary playwright who is rewriting the rules of the stage with each work. She’s a polarizing figure — enough that someone shouted “kill the playwright!” at a performance of THE FLICK a friend of mine attended in NYC.
Baker has mastered a style of showing & telling that is unique, one that makes you pay intensely close attention to the quotidian. Actions are as important as dialogue. Sounds and objects have presence and character. There is a sly sleight of hand going on at all times, continual misdirection. It is exquisitely constructed while seeming weird and random.
The setup is deceptively simple. A young couple goes to a B&B in Gettysburg for a few nights. They meet the proprietor and her elderly friend. And we watch, for three hours and two intermissions, as things get…odd.
JOHN, I muse after much reflection, is in part a play that reveals the layered and varied experience of being female. How much more complex women’s lives and thoughts and secrets really are, beyond and outside cultural expectations, at different ages. The young, the mid-life, the old: Maid, Mother, Crone.
At 89, Dorothy Silver has the power of nitroglycerin unleashed. Her lived experience merges with the surprises in this roller-coaster role to bring psychic explosions. It is glorious and her second act monologue to the audience is unforgettable. She is a living treasure.
At the center of the play is Catherine Albers, whose ability to shift between an inexhaustible number of voices and layers and realities is the spiritual engine of the play. As the proprietor, she is woman in maturity — a remarkable performance.
Kay Shy as Jenny Chung, trying to negotiate a flailing relationship with the quirky Elias (Luke Werner) is young woman — juggling her job, men, nasty periods and constant apologies. (I still remember that time, and don’t miss it, thanks!)
Brilliant work by all in a difficult, mysterious piece. Mad props to Nathan Motta for his razor-fine direction and for Dobama’s all-female playwright season.