Tag Archives: Jane Shaw

Our Daughters, Like Pillars – Boston and Streaming

Playwright Kirsten Greenidge understands the impact of order: birth order, marriage order, and trying to keep order.  In her family drama Our Daughters, Like Pillars, she explores the significance of order in three full acts, allowing her characters to leisurely reveal their affecting histories and conflicting hopes for the future.  

This was my third viewing of a Huntington Theater play made possible by their digital insurance policy.  These offerings are not films, but rather live capture of a singular experience using 10-12 cameras.  While nothing can replicate the energy of sharing a performance with an in-person audience, The Huntington’s digital works offer quality productions to those who remain unable to sit in a venue with strangers.  All three had exceptionally clear audio. My first of these was the darkly funny Teenage Dick, energetically directed by Moritz von Stuelpnagel with a first rate cast.  This stream was later shared with the Pasadena Playhouse for an extended run.  Next was Toni Morrison’s devastating The Bluest Eye gorgeously adapted by Lydia R. Diamond.  Director Awoye Timpo’s swirling camerawork allowed home audiences to better view the characters’ movements around a stage poignantly shaped like a chopped tree stump.  With Kimberly Senior’s traditional proscenium staging, Our Daughters, Like Pillars uses more expressive close-ups than shifting angles, but it never loses pacing. 

The story revolves around the three Shaw sisters who are vacationing in a house rented by oldest sister Lavinia (Seldes-Kanin fellowship winner Nikkole Salter) and her husband.  What should be a celebratory time of togetherness turns increasingly tension-filled as Vinny becomes progressively more controlling of her siblings and their mother.  Having felt isolated during the first year of COVID, Vinny’s vision is to have the entire family under one roof on a permanent basis.  But though she tries tactical cajoling, needling guilt, and outright manipulation, that goal is not shared either by people-pleasing middle sister Octavia (Arie Thompson) or youngest Zelda (Lyndsay Allyn Cox) who has only just taken her first steps towards independence.  We gain a deeper understanding of the siblings through their mother Yvonne (Lizan Mitchell) and their stepmother Missy (Cheryl D. Singleton) who are each given profound fourth-wall breaking monologues.  Race and class play important but smaller roles in the script.

Lyndsay Allyn Cox, Arie Thompson and Nikkole Salter; Photo by T Charles Erickson

While the spotlight is clearly on the women — by turns strong and brittle — it is the two men who supply the softness.  Genuine light shines from Julian Parker’s Paul King, Zelda’s casual conquest living by his wits who gets caught up in the whirl of family conflict. And Postell Pringle portrays Vinny’s husband Morris with intensity as he tries to rein in his wife’s darker, more destructive instincts.  The set by Marion Williams includes several levels which provides a feeling of movement to the dialogue-heavy drama.  The family is tightly contained, with the outside world intruding only through the ringing of a telephone.  Costumes by Sarita Fellows add essential color and flow while Jane Shaw’s sound incorporates music from Prince to Sam Cooke.

At 3 ½ hours including two 15 minute intermissions, Our Daughters, Like Pillars, indulges in the kind of rolling storytelling rarely seen since March 2020.  It is playing at the Huntington’s Wimberly Theatre in Boston through May 8 and On Demand through May 22.  Prices range from $25 – $99.  For tickets and information visit https://www.huntingtontheatre.org/plays-and-events/.

Fear

An 8 year old girl has gone missing near a lake in a wooded area.  A plumber by trade and self-appointed neighborhood guardian, Phil has collared troubled teen Jamie, and dragged him into a nearby deserted toolshed for questioning.  Phil spotted Jamie near where the girl was last seen, but his suspicion of the young man stems more from their previous experience.  To gain a clear upper hand, Phil takes the drastic step of tying Jamie to a chair in an effort to extract a confession.  Hearing cries for help, erudite professor Ethan barges onto the scene and into the conversation.

Playwright Matt Williams uses this triad to explore how personal endangerment affects action in his new aptly titled work Fear.  As events unfold, each one of these people holds onto a strong conviction that he is on the side of what is right, not only in regards to the current potential wrongdoing but in their world view.  The three characters aren’t particularly original, but their relationships to one another is sophisticatedly developed.  As new background information is revealed, alliances between the three shift, along with the loyalty of the audience.  Williams’ experience in television comedy comes through in the heavy dose of explanation in the show’s opening moments.  There are also occasional splashes of jokes that come on a little strong, though they each provide a pleasant moment to breathe between psychological stabs. As in life, everyone here is an unreliable narrator, with truth getting lost in perception and self defense. 

The show literally starts with a bang as Ethan and Jamie struggle through the doorway letting it slam behind them.  There are many other moments that beg us to lean forward.  Director Tea Alagić keeps the pressure high by containing her characters in a small dusty and chaotic space designed by Andrew Boyce.  D.M. Wood’s harsh lighting adds to the desired mood with Jane Shaw’s sound adding aural punctuation.  All three actors are excellent, with Obi Abili’s Ethan particularly drawing us in with his tension-filled whispers.  Enrico Colantoni gives Phil appropriate swagger tinged with a touch of menace as he vividly recalls episodes he has witnessed.  Though we come to understand that Jamie is socially awkward and learning disabled, the potential for him to develop a fully sympathetic side is lost in Alexander Garfin’s jittery performance.  This may be a weakness of his lines rather than his acting ability.

Enrico Colantoni, Alexander Garfin, and Obi Abili. Photo is by Jeremy Daniel (7)

Enrico Colantoni, Alexander Garfin, and Obi Abili in Fear. Photo by Jeremy Daniel.

By settling for easily recognizable characters instead of digging deeper, Fear falls short of making a lasting impression  But it does illustrate in shorthand how anyone is capable of becoming what they most loath in an attempt to save what they most love.  Though the opportunity for lasting impact is blunted, these actors bring their A Game and keep us engaged throughout the play.  This world premiere has a limited run through December 8 at the Lucille Lortel Theatre (121 Christopher Street.)  Runtime is 80 minutes without intermission.  Tickets are $65- $89 and can be purchased by visiting FearthePlay.com or by calling (866) 811-4111.