Perhaps it’s our collective mood that has brought on a slew of dystopian dramas. Certainly the catastrophe that prompts the events covered in Lucy Kirkwood’s The Children isn’t novel. The facts of “the accident” in question are based on those that actually transpired in Japan just a few years ago. What is fresh is the way in which Kirkwood all but ignores the usual condemnation of nuclear power and instead uses the localized event to explore bigger and more human issues including the responsibility of each generation to the next and what comprises a well-lived life. Then she sprinkles in enough humor and love in its many forms to prevent the discussion from becoming soul-crushing.
Deborah Findlay and Ron Cook in The Children, Photo © Joan Marcus 2017
To be honest, if the invitation to this production had announced that Francesca Annis, Ron Cook, and Deborah Findlay were coming to town to read American Greetings cards at my local Duane Reade, I still would have bought a ticket. I know all three primarily from their television work (any other Reckless fans out there?) and wanted the opportunity to see them live. The quality of the acting did not disappoint. There is a lived-in feel to all three performances that is not only a delight to experience, but essential to making the story’s ending believable.
The character set-up is as deceptively simple as the situation. Annis’s Rose has come to see Findlay’s Hazel and Cook’s Robin, a couple of retired physicists with whom she worked over 30 years ago. These three supposed old friends obviously have serious catching up to do, and from the subtle undertones it’s clearly not just about Hazel and Robin’s biological children. It is slightly disappointing that the playwright cannot come up with anything more original than off-stage phone calls to get characters out of the room when necessary, but this can be overlooked given the overall strength of the writing and its interpretation by a seasoned cast.
The behind-the-scenes team is equally sophisticated and deft in their approach to the material. Director James Macdonald provides his talent with purposeful “business” that keeps the play from feeling talky while revealing subtleties about the characters. His job is made easier by a brilliant, askew set conceived by multiple award winner Miriam Buether. Buether also created the everywhere-and-nowhere costumes. Peter Mumford’s disquieting lighting and projection designs add just enough menace to the atmosphere to hint at what lies beyond the slightly claustrophobic kitchen that we see. The three players are confined, at least for the moment.
The Children is a play you simply cannot leave behind you. The questions it poses and feelings it prods are too profound and intertwined in our everyday practices. If that sounds enticing rather than overwhelming, get ye to The Manhattan Theatre Club at the Samuel J. Friedman Theatre. Tickets are on sale through February 4, 2018, at http://thechildrenbroadway.com.
The Unforgettable Line 
The Cake
The Cake is like one of those imperfectly filled jelly donuts: a few sweet spot surrounded by too much bland. At a time when we could use serious conversation and considered insight into the critical issues that divide us as a nation, this comedy by This Is Us producer Bekah Brunstetter offers too little that is satisfying. Though it concludes with some timid steps towards a “love is love is love” message, it gets there via worn out arguments on both sides of the issue of gay marriage.
Fans of That 70s Show may delight in seeing Debra Jo Rupp as Della, the owner of a sweet shop in Winston-Salem North Carolina (Brunstetter’s home town) about to find fame on a national baking show. Her opening monologue cleverly lays the groundwork for the rigid discipline Della applies to all areas of her life. Soon after, she is reunited with Jen, her deceased best friend’s daughter, who is in town preparing for her October wedding. Initially Della is thrilled when asked to provide the wedding cake. But when she discovers Jen’s intended is another bride, she clumsily rescinds the offer. Their ensuing awkward discussion leaves both Della and Jen rattled and searching for the roots of their beliefs and accompanying feelings of shame.
Director Lynne Meadows does her best with a space that is too wide for a story this intimate. Rupp is her usual perky self, delivering most of the better lines with comic flair. To some ears, Della will simply come across as a bigot (though a chirpy petite one) who uses someone else’s pleasure and pain to mend her own relationship. But there are moments when Della’s turmoil feels genuine. Rupp is most grounded in her scenes with Dan Daily, who has the most joyful character arc in the role of her domineering husband, Tim. (Daily also provides the voice of the appropriately oily George, the host of the American Baking Show who functions as Della’s conscience.)
Rupp and Angelson in The Cake. Photo by Joan Marcus.
The relationship of the lesbian couple is more problematic. Disappointingly, though the words are often there — particularly in Jen’s vivid and horrifying description of her heterosexual encounters — there is no palpable connection between the two actresses. The fresh-faced Genevieve Angelson brings a sweet restlessness to Jen as she is tossed between the realms of her conservative childhood and newly found freedom discovered in New York. As her betrothed, Marinda Anderson gives Macy some well-earned rough edges, though the script occasionally requires her to speechify. But as a couple, they never seem to click.
The overall look of the piece is spot-on. Scenic designer John Lee Beatty has chosen candy colors to surround his baker, with mint green and strawberry cream pink swirling through her shop and home. In contrast, the engaged couple is staying in the only earth toned room on the set. Wardrobe by costume designer Tom Broecker follows a similar scheme, with Jen alternating palates. Philip S. Rosenberg’s ’s lighting sharpens the intensity of Della’s inner dialogue and softens the conversations between lovers.
With The Cake, Ms. Brunstetter has tried to make the point that recent cultural shifts have occurred too quickly for some goodhearted people to catch up. The irony is that since the time the play was first produced, those same shifts have given rise to a slate of superior projects with bolder things to say. From our current cultural vantage point, this work is a disappointing use of Rupp’s comedic talent as well as a waste of several delectable-looking cakes.
The Cake is playing through March 31 at MTC at New York City Center – Stage I. Theater-goers under 30 qualify for special $35 tickets. Full priced tickets begin at $89 and can be purchased online at www.nycitycenter.org, by calling CityTix at 212-581-1212, or by visiting the New York City Center box office (131 West 55th Street).