For a first-time visitor to Western Reserve Playhouse, “The Barn” offers a pleasant surprise, matching a remarkably comfortable space with high-quality production values. Even more surprising, however, is the emotional depth and veracity that director Mia Radabaugh mines from John Patrick Shanley’s exploration of romantic relationships and male friendship in his 1986 play, Italian American Reconciliation.
With an over-the-top script populated by verbose Italian-American archetypes, it would have been easy to lean into cheap, exaggerated laughs. Instead, Radabaugh guides a highly talented cast through a sparsely staged production that prioritizes genuine human connection. The result is a deeply relatable evening. Though the characters appear outrageous and unlikable on the surface, this accomplished ensemble ensures the audience grows to love them—inviting us to laugh with them rather than at them.
The journey begins with Aldo Scalicki, the play’s narrator, played with inventive comedic flair by Santino Montanez. Aldo introduces himself and his best friend, Huey Maximilian Bonfigliano (August Scarpelli), who is introduced mid-crisis. Huey is a self-proclaimed, desperate loser convinced he can only reclaim his manhood by reconciling with his venomous ex-wife Janice—a woman so hateful she allegedly resorted to violence to end their marriage. Huey besieges Aldo to help him orchestrate a reunion, but only after Huey breaks up with his current level-headed, kindhearted love interest Teresa.
Though initially appalled by the idea, Aldo is swayed by his own deep-seated yearning to be a better man than his father was, and to become someone who can freely express love. Montanez is remarkably earnest, portraying a fiercely loyal friend willing to indulge a ridiculous quest on one condition: that Huey lets Teresa down with gentle kindness.
We are then introduced to Teresa (Lauren Stepanski) and her Aunt May (Kim Simbeck) at the soup shop where Teresa works. In weaker hands, these roles could easily devolve into banal platitudes. However, both actresses elevate the material. Simbeck plays the jaded, wise and doting aunt with sharp wit, while Stepanski portrays Huey’s grounded, patient girlfriend with a nuanced, yearning performance.
The momentum shifts into high gear during a brilliantly staged scene in the backyard and balcony of Janice’s house. Having heard Huey and Aldo’s warnings, the audience is primed to despise Janice. Yet Mackenzie Barry delivers a masterful performance that defies all preconceived notions. Barry seduces both Aldo and the audience simultaneously, utilizing a sly wit and enigmatic magnetism that beautifully belies her dark backstory. Just as we are mesmerized and sucked into Janice’s aura, the spell is broken by Huey’s sudden arrival. Radabaugh successfully utilizes Janice’s seductive mystique to baffle the characters and the audience alike, treating her as a profound placeholder for the feminine mystique.
Shanley has written men and women who are far more complex than standard film or television tropes, and Radabaugh leans into this by directing Janice and Aldo with humor that serves as armor for their deep loneliness and vulnerability. The crackling sexual tension between the two is only broken when Scarpelli’s Huey returns, revealing a poignant growth and emotional depth in his character.
On the technical side, the lighting and scenic design were sparse yet perfectly tailored to the intimate space. While a traditional intermission and a more thoughtfully curated program would have enhanced the overall experience, this production stands as a triumphant, heartfelt success.
[Written by Lisa DeBenedictis]