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A CurtainUp Los Angeles Review
Other Desert Cities
By Jon Magaril
It's Christmas in Palm Springs. After David Mamet's November this past November, the Taper once again deserves credit for time-appropriate scheduling. Prodigal daughter Brooke Wyeth (Robin Weigert) visits home for the first time in years. Recently recovered from a long bout of depression and writer's block, she confides in her younger brother Trip (Michael Weston), a reality TV producer, that she's brought the galleys of her new work. She's written a memoir of growing up in the late '60's with an older brother who rebelled against their parents Polly and Lyman (Jobeth Williams and Robert Foxworth), stalwarts in the Republican Party. The brother helped plant a bomb, which killed a worker. He then apparently took his own life. Brooke has been grieving for him ever since. When she trepidatiously reveals the book's subject matter, Polly and Lyman exert their considerable powers of persuasion to have her stop its impending publication. It had taken an olympian effort to regain their position in the political and social stratospheres. Now with their advancing age, they don't want to fight old battles. Polly warns Brooke: "There are consequences to our actions. . . . You would still be my daughter but the meaning of that would change. You would lose us" Baitz incisively explores how political beliefs affect intimate relationships and vice versa. He packs these essential issues into a tightly constructed, commercial vehicle that moves smoothly on wit, acute observation, and full-bodied characterizations. The roles, which also include Polly's life-long liberal and newly sober sister Silda (Jeannie Berlin), are gifts for actors. Baitz has wrapped every one of them in bold, contrasting colors. Inside though, each harbors a surprise. Egan's cast approaches their roles like joyous but polite children on Christmas morning. They revel, unpacking all the laughs and revelations. But they don't take make too much of a fuss. The New York company, led by Stockard Channing, was composed primarily of imposing alphas. Here, they blend admirably into a viable family unit. Weston's ingratiating people-pleaser is a fount of inventive physical behavior. Berlin is attuned to a unique frequency that generates laughs and credibility for an ultimate plot twist. Foxworth does subtle work as a lion in winter. Jobeth Williams' Polly runs cool, but she's not entirely persuasive as a doyenne who's gone successfully toe to toe with Nancy Reagan. Williams is endowed with an innate accessibility. This gives room for Weigert's achingly vulnerable take on Brooke. Together, they establish a different set of stakes from the original production. In New York, we watched a epochal battle of wills between a mother and daughter of differing values. Now the Wyeths are somewhat closer to average, with a tenuous but recognizable bond. In this less pointed but more universal take, we see how secrets and lies destroy a young woman's ability to become whole. This approach flows more naturally into the cathartic denouement. From a writing standpoint, the conclusion still seems a bit of a cheat to me. Baitz, until then, balances plot and politics within a steady stream of point and counter-point. Here's Polly's comment about how to treat the frail Brooke: “I think the only way to get someone not to be an invalid is to refuse to treat them as such.” Silda tops her with," And there it is folks, the entire GOP platform in a nutshell." This works atz the levels of both character and culture. The climax is a monologue about a road trip that changes the course of the characters' lives and the basic mode of the play itself. It shifts our assumptions about Lyman and Polly, yet the speaker doesn't mention that. All discussion about the intersection between beliefs and behavior is gone. Baitz famously left Brothers and Sisters, the TV series he'd created, because the powers-that-be no longer wanted the element that made it unique. It was a serialized family drama that included political debate. But in his first play since the series, Baitz recreates the pattern that disheartened him. It moves from the fully engaged repartee of its first two-thirds to a focus on plot revelations and tears. Baitz might say any larger talk at that point is best left for the audience after the curtain. For me though, it's a detour from the more intriguingly ambiguous and ambitious lines of the play. Still, I'm open to discussion. What's not debatable is Other Desert Cities' high caliber. From its elegant design elements to the layered performances of its cohesive ensemble, Robert Egan's production brings full-bodied theatrical refreshment to the holiday season. To read the review of the New York production go here
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