Photos courtesy of ICT.
Some theater tropes reoccur perpetually, but none of them offer as much potential (or as much possibility for heavy handedness) as that of a full-grown, dispersed family, returning home for a celebration or catastrophe. With the number of times this basic scenario has been used, one would assume that the premise would have exhausted itself years ago, but as is clearly seen Jon Robin Baitz’s biting, humane, and often brilliant dramatic comedy Other Desert Cities, this is one trope worth exploring for as long as the politics of family and our society continue to evolve.
Currently at the International City Theater in Long Beach, we are given the rare opportunity to see an important play in a pitch perfect production that reminds us why the family is essential to not just the theater, but to all of our lives as well.
Originally premiering at Lincoln Center before transferring to Broadway in the not-so-distant 2011, Other Desert Cities has had its fair share of accolades and in this new production it is clear to see why. Winning a Drama League Award as well as one from the Outer Critics Circle, it received five Tony Award nominations and was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize for Drama to boot.
Lyman (Nicholas Hormann) and Polly (Suzanne Ford) Wyeth both used to be involved with Hollywood in the 1960s. Lyman was a sort of Clint Eastwood type, appearing in numerous western movies, while Polly co-wrote a series of kitschy comedies with her sister Silda (Eileen T’Kay).
After the couple’s stint in Hollywood, Lyman went on to be a United States ambassador (during the Reagan years) and Polly followed at his side. The two now continue to fuel their Republican Party ties from their mid-century home in the heat of the Palm Springs desert, where Silda is also currently living, attempting to go sober after alcoholism nearly got the best of her.
The action begins on Christmas Eve when two of the Wyeth’s three children return for the holiday. Trip, their only son at the gathering, lives in Los Angeles and is a producer on a reality TV show that stages “real life court trials” before a jury of C-grade celebrities. Trip serves as the mediator for the family; he is not nearly as conservative as his parents, but also not as self-serious or detached from the zeitgeist of the times as his sister, Brooke.
Brooke is a writer and the complete antithesis of her parents, at least on the surface. Liberal, witty, and sarcastic as hell, she fled California and relocated to Long Island years ago, yet a recent mental breakdown and a variety of other setbacks have kept her from finishing her second novel—that is, until now.
Brooke has brought her newest novel along to ask the family for their approval before its publication. Normally, this would seem odd, but her newest novel actually turns out to be a memoir. In it, Brooke documents the untimely death of the third of the Wythe’s children, Henry, who committed suicide after being involved in a bombing led by a revolutionary group he was involved with when he was still a teenager.
This alone would be hard for any family to deal with, but the fact that Brooke’s parents refuse talk about Henry’s death with either their remaining children or (seemingly) each other, raises the stakes for Brooke’s book to earn their approval. It also seems as though the family may refuse to come to terms with their own denials. As layers of truth are revealed and each character’s world view is not only exposed but challenged, Other Desert Cities roars on to its explosive and shocking (if not entirely plausible) conclusion.
This doesn’t even begin to prepare you for the multidimensional nature of these characters or the razor sharp wit and drama displayed herein. With the family as its axis, Other Desert Cities manages not only to thoroughly address the “indentured servitude of having a family” but also the complexities of political and generational differences that so often fuel all of life’s relationships.
Mr. Baitz is incredibly gifted at letting all of these themes reveal themselves in ways that feel natural and engaging, cleverly avoiding the exposition that so often weighs down many plays that share similar themes and infrastructure . As in the best theater, the dialogue here finds ways of developing characters and progressing action as it gradually fills in the blanks of the past.
All of this praise wouldn’t be worth a damn if the cast didn’t live up to the potential of the script and I am happy—even proud—to say that this is where the ICT’s production really sails the highest. Not only is every member of the cast as complex and recognizably human as anyone could hope them to be, they are to date the finest all around cast I have seen in Long Beach since I began reviewing for the Post. Each and every member turns in excellent work here, so if you’ve ever been wondering what good theater acting is like, this would serve as an excellent place to start your search.
Eileen T’Kaye turns in what is perhaps the slyest of the five performances as Polly’s recovering-alcoholic sister, Silda. She gets a good number of the funniest lines and lands every one of them with a zing. She also provides a lot of insight into the politics that separate many members of the Wyeth clan, adding context and understanding to the way this family works. Like all of the characters in the play, however, there are things hidden beneath the floorboards and their unveiling renders Silda as complex and unable to pigeon-hole as any great theatrical character.
Blake Anthony Edwards is a perfect fit as Trip Wyeth, and his comedic tone and hard-earned humorous outlook on life make him the most immediately likeable character on the stage. This is not to say that Trip is without his faults, but in many ways it feels like he is the glue that keeps this family together. Edwards, like T’Kaye, gets a good number of the play’s wittiest bits and like T’Kaye he delivers with grace and ease. His vulnerability rounds out his portrayal of Trip and is ultimately that which secures his place in the audience’s hearts.
Nicholas Hormann is nearly type-cast as Lyman Wyeth and I do not mean that as a bad thing. He is instantly believable as a former Hollywood actor, with a distinguished head of grey hair and an effortless baritone voice, but like his son, it is the way in which he handles his most vulnerable moments that are his most impressive. The way he talks about his lost son and reveals his own struggles as a parent are heartbreaking and authentic. If Mr. Hormann does not have children of his own, he definitely could have fooled me.
Ann Nobel’s Brooke is so spot on, I found myself forgetting she wasn’t a friend of mine from my time spent back east. Down to her Doc Martin boots, she fits the role to a T. Her sarcasm and wit are often some of the play’s most poignant, and although you likely won’t agree with everything she says or every choice she makes, you will care about her right up through her character’s cathartic climax at the play’s end. Nobel is the sort of actress who makes the clear character choices directors dream of, so that each line rings with truth and candor. She breaks your heart.
Lastly, and most astonishingly, Suzanne Ford’s performance as Polly Wyeth is a small revelation. All of the elements are in Ford’s favor but she surpasses all of those and stands above them in what is perhaps the best performance by an actress I’ve seen all year. Her Polly is tough and relentless, delivering every line as if it could be written on her tombstone. At one point early in the first act, I heard someone say under their breath, “Oh my God, that’s my mother,” and I was not surprised at all that her performance was having that kind of an effect. To indulge in the emotional moments of subtlety that Ford produces throughout her performance would sell it short and fail to do it justice, as these things are always better seen than spoken about, but Ford is the real deal here and it’s something to get excited about.
caryn desai’s (the ICT’s artistic director and producer, purposefully lower cased) directs this production of Other Desert Cities and her hand is assured and as nuanced as one could possibly hope for with this play. She allows all of the actors their moments in the limelight and often exposes them outwards at their most vulnerable. Her pacing is nearly perfect and her clarity of vision could be a casebook study on the subject.
My only bit of criticism for this production lies in the awkward transition between the play’s dramatic ending and its short epilogue. The flash forward at the play’s end is awkward in the script as well, but its staged transition seems unsure of itself in an otherwise pitch-perfect production. The play recovers from this by its last line however, which rings out poignantly as the lights dim.
The set by resident scenic designer Kim DeShazo makes it quite obvious that we’re in Palm Springs before the play even begins with its well-placed mid-century touches and mountain landscape on the horizon. All other technical elements are similarly in synch.
The title Other Desert Cities took on many meanings for me over the course of the performance and in closing I will share a few of them. Literally, the title is taken from a sign on the I-10 freeway where the highway splits to lead you towards Palm Springs or “Other Desert Cities.” Early in the first act, Brooke mentions how she is tempted to just keep driving past Palm Springs and towards them instead of coming home to deal with the confrontation of her family.
With the cans of worms that open throughout the play, however, it began to appear as though the house itself was actually a different place than it had ever been, as though not just Brooke but the whole family were now in another desert city.
Lastly, in the second act, there is a scene where Silda calls out her sister and her husband for supporting a war that she sees as an outrage and a tragedy. She notes that in other deserts right now, far, far away from Palm Springs, people are being killed and towns being demolished as Lyman and Polly cling to their first world problems in the comfort of their resort home.
These multiple meanings are the sort of riches Other Desert Cities has in spades. This is the sort of play I wish we saw more of at the ICT. It is contemporary, topical theater that this city can be proud to call its own. See it before it goes, or think about how you missed out every time you drive passed the namesake’s exit sign on the interstate.
ICT’s production of Other Desert Cities is set to run through June 29. For tickets, call 562-436-4610 or click here.
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