If you’re tired of comic book heroes, vapid reality series, dire economic forecasts and political upheaval, treat yourself to an uncomplicated evening of entertaining, well written, ably performed theater. The two one act plays that comprise Cradle and All express both bruising emotions and sharp, nuanced humor with equal skill. Their focus: having a baby.
Infantry: Claire (Maria Dizzia), an unemployed actress, and Luke (Greg Keller), an antiques dealer, live in an urbane Brooklyn Heights apartment furnished with modern, chrome-detailed, beige furniture, Japanese ceramics, and the kind of lighting that looks like it will walk away. A film poster of Claire, starring with Keanu Reeves hangs over the fireplace. The living room is filled with roses; a dozen dozen we find out later. Nuts are roasted, martinis mixed. Claire anxiously awaits her partner. She has an agenda.
The couple have been together seven years and are unmarried. Claire is over 40, Luke is 34. When he opens the front door, we hear the apparently familiar sound of a wailing baby from next door. “Do you think she’s all right?” Claire asks. “Who cares?!” he responds. Here it is in a nutshell. Claire wants a child. Luke does not. They’ve discussed this before-many times. Otherwise compatible and purportedly in love, the elephant in the room suddenly makes a ruckus. Secrets are revealed. A few more character idiosyncrasies, especially in Luke’s case, would’ve increased impact. Still, the play rings like a clear bell, delicate and touching.
The Extinction Method: Annie (Maria Dizzia) and Nate (Greg Keller), an unemployed actor, live in the apartment adjacent to Claire and Luke. It’s their eleven month-old, Olivia, we hear briefly in the first play. The Hamburgers are trying to cope with the physical mess and exhaustive demands of first time parents. Olivia doesn’t sleep. They’re stressed, she to the breaking point. On professional advice, this is to be the evening Annie and Nate let the baby cry for hours in an effort to wean her. Drawn by the siren call of the electronic monitor, each prevents the other from “giving in.”
Fear, rationalizations, questions, accusations, and assurances run rampant. Post partum thoughts like “I’m on the decline and you just get better looking” and “I have varicose veins on my vagina…!” negate Nate’s obvious, charmingly played desire for his flailing wife. The briskly directed, intimate piece is crammed with keenly depicted details keeping an essentially simple story interesting. Dialogue flies like ping pong balls. Stage business adds texture. Humor provides a constant flow of chuckles. The more fully realized of the two plays, The Extinction Method is also warm and convincing. How is a marriage to survive this insanity?! (Many of you undoubtedly know).
Maria Dizzia is completely believable. We watch her reflect, remember, decide, and gather her words before she speaks, all in unexaggerated real time. Every shrug and hand gesture comes from somewhere. Her face is wonderfully expressive. Alone on the stage, she adeptly moves as if preoccupied. While Claire painfully subjugates in the first play, Annie lets fly in the second, showing Dizzia’s range. These are pointedly two different women. A firecracker performance as Annie exhibits uninhibited physical craft.
Greg Keller has little to do in Infantry. Luke is so curiously prim, I wondered whether the director meant to imply the character was gay. As Nate, the actor shows talent for grounded character depiction. His harried husband and father remains credibly sweet even suffering, and holds his own against the barrage, never becoming a cartoon. This is more than a good script. Also an excellent physical performer, Keller’s easy, loose limbed presence is supported by unobtrusive focus.
Director, Sam Buntrock, has precisely drawn three out of four characters. His pacing is masterful. Activities and interaction are both revealing and appealing. (Loved the baking). Reactions are wonderfully explicit, especially when physical. Relationships feel unvarnished. The stage is well utilized. A sense of clear understanding is pervasive.
Neil Patel’s Scenic Design and Mattie Ullrich’s Costumes serve the production admirably.
Whether you wince in sympathy or laugh with empathy, the truth of Cradle and All evokes the direct response of a satisfying meal.
Photos by Joan Marcus
Cradle and All by Daniel Goldfarb
Directed by Sam Buntrock
With Maria Dizzia and Greg Keller
Manhattan Theater Club City Center Stage 1
131 West 55th Street
www.manhattantheaterclub.com
Through June 19, 2011
