The shattering impact of an “I love you” with a “but” clause is at the heart of The Baby Monitor, currently mounted as a workshop production at the 14th Street Y. The plot centers around the suspicions a woman harbors concerning her gay cousin’s treatment of the toddler son he shares with his husband. By fleshing out this nightmare scenario with all-too-common misunderstandings stemming from distinctions in race, class and religion, playwright David Stallings has delivered something far richer than an issues play. It is a thoughtful examination of the ways in which simply tolerating differences rather than embracing them can cause irreparable damage to our societal fabric.
The scene opens on a family Thanksgiving. Rejected by most of his strict Catholic family after coming out, Damon has invited his close cousin Claire and her husband Josh to join him and his husband Phillip to celebrate the holiday along with their two-year-old son and nanny. The evening includes a great deal of reminiscing and chardonnay and concludes with flipping through the new family’s photo album. A combination of tainted religious doctrine and personal frustration leads Claire to react inappropriately to one of the pictures. Her misguided good intentions have the potential to destroy the happiness of everyone involved.

David Stallings, Leo Goodman, Amanda Jones, and Hector Matias. Photo by Michael Dekker
Even at a time when gay marriage is legal and children stemming from these unions are not uncommon, it has been hard for many people to move beyond ingrained beliefs. Stallings realistically explores a variety of viewpoints stemming from these slow-to-shift societal norms. The genuine danger that can grow from preconceived notions is revealed in peeling layers. While there is certainly an ideology that skews left running underneath, the dialogue is stealthy, with little slips of the tongue that indicate early on that Claire’s love for Damon has many qualifiers attached to it. By making Phillip and the nanny Soledad immigrants from the Dominican Republic, Stallings can additionally explore the role culture and class play in the escalating tensions.
Stallings also stars as Damon, a performance infused with deep passion. Héctor Matias is positively dreamy as Phillip, accustomed to keeping up his guard except around the family he clearly adores. Stallings is less successful in his drawing of female characters. Though Amanda Jones strives to manifest Claire’s sympathetic backstory, the character is essentially unlikable and therefore challenging to portray. This is magnified in her scenes with Leo Goodman’s wonderfully nuanced Josh, who is most often given the voice of reason. Greta Quispe similarly struggles to give balance to Soledad, whose personal journey could make for an equally compelling play. However, Mel House is strong in her too-brief performance in the critical role of activist Shelly.
For this production, the black box theater has been set up in 3/4 round with a simple set of padded tiles and wooden boxes. Lighting designed by Kia Rogers is used to shift the setting and to mimic a violent climatic moment. Direction by Stallings’ husband Antonio Miniño is skillful, with an engaging blend of quiet touching moments and palpable strain.
As much as it is a powerful drama, The Baby Monitor is also an important conversation starter. Developed on both coasts of this divided country, it would be wonderful if this work could find its way into the middle. The production contains very brief partial nudity and is recommended for ages 16 and over. It is playing through December 16 at the 14th Street Y, 344 East 14th Street near 1st Avenue. General Admission tickets can be purchased by calling 646-395-4310 or by visiting www.differenttranslation.com. Prices are $25 for adults and $22 for seniors and students. $5 rush tickets are available 15 minutes before curtain for those living in zip codes 10003 and 10009.








Blue Ridge
Alison only knows one way of being. All waving arms and defensive language, she’s a fast talker in all the meanings of that phrase. Having been incarcerated for taking a hatchet to her lover’s car, she’s been released into the loving care of a church-sponsored sober house in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Western North Carolina. We meet her at her very first group session where she recites Carrie Underwood lyrics instead of the bible passage she’s supposed to have prepared. Within minutes she’s telling the circle why she’s not really responsible for her crime and emphasizing that, having never done drugs, she doesn’t have need of any one of the twelve steps.
Anyone who has experience with someone in recovery will know exactly how this story is going to unfold. That’s the essential problem with Blue Ridge, now playing at the Atlantic Theater Company’s Linda Gross Theater. While Abby Rosebrock’s script is beautifully written with textured dialogue, it doesn’t have anything new to say about mental health, boundary issues, or the powers of addiction in its many forms. Only those who find a new path have a real prayer of moving on intact enough to survive in the outside world.
From lower left: Peter Mark Kendall, Chris Stack, Kyle Beltran, Kristolyn Lloyd, Nicole Lewis and Marin Ireland in Blue Ridge. Photo by Ahron R. Foster.
In the hands and body of stage steady Marin Ireland, Alison is particularly irksome. Her constant shrillness and twitching makes it hard to believe anyone in this substitute family would warm to her. This is especially true of her devoted roommate Cherie, played with deep sincerity by the excellent Kristolyn Lloyd. The male housemates’ reactions come from two diametrically opposed yet equally predictable directions. Peter Mark Kendall brings genuine vulnerability to the easily beguiled Cole while the endlessly watchable Kyle Beltran’s Wade creates friction in his struggle to find inner strength. The program’s co-founders are equally ill-equipped to lead everyone safely through a troubled journey. Pastor Hern (a smooth Chris Stack) weakly attempts to guide the housemates in a more mindful direction, and Nicole Lewis’s insufficiently defined Grace generally lives up to her name by simply finding the good in what comes naturally to each of her residents.
Director Taibi Magar successfully explores the shifting mood as the house moves from warm community to too close for comfort. Confrontations have a palpable and fiery emotional core. Her pacing is off, though, with the play running nearly 15 minutes over the prescribed two hours on Thursday night. Mikaal Sulaiman provides the intelligently curated soundtrack for both conflict and healing. Unfortunately, some of the other design choices are distracting. Why is the ten year old furniture of Adam Rigg’s set in a palate associated with the late 70s? Why does Amith Chandrashaker’s lighting incorporate an incongruous brilliant December sunshine streaming through the window and ugly fluorescent overheads that play a supporting role for just a few minutes? Why, while indicating the passage of time through Thanksgiving throws and a Rudolf mantlepiece, do we need to break the story’s flow and see each item put in place by the glow of a proscenium of LEDs?
Taken as a whole, this production of Blue Ridge is flawed and consequently frustrating. Writer Rosebrock has obvious talent, but her storytelling has not yet been brought into focus. However, if you are fascinated by the ways in which broken people can either fit together with or puncture those around them, you may find enough with which to engage. This limited run is scheduled through Sunday, January 27th. Regular tickets begin at $65 and can be purchased online at atlantictheater.org, by calling OvationTix at 866-811-4111, or in person at the Linda Gross Theater box office (336 West 20th Street between 8th and 9th Avenues).