Marin Ireland, Jeanine Serralles, Trent Dawson and Peter Kim, photo by Joan Marcus
From time to time, there comes along a play that forces us to rethink our lives, our careers, and our relationships. And this time it is Jordan Harrison’s Maple and Vine, a provocative new play with an authentically individual vision. And though theatergoers must be willing to suspend disbelief to nearly ludicrous lengths, this play inevitably scrapes down to the bedrock of American culture.
We are dealing here with five characters in their mid to late 30s. Katha (Marin Ireland), a manager at Random House, her plastic-surgeon husband Ryu (Peter Kim), Ellen (Jeanine Serralles), a reenactor for the Society of Dynamic Obsolescence, her husband Dean (Trent Dawson), and Katha’s office-mates, Jenna (Jeanine Serralles again) and Omar (Pedro Pascal), and Roger (Pedro Pacscal again). The play surreally shuttles between the present -day and 1955, the year when Eisenhower was president, Nixon was Number Two, and Soviet President Krushchev was on TV in black and white.
The play’s conceit is novel. Maple and Vine invites you to follow characters who are allergic to the twenty-first century and thus transplant themselves to a gated community called the Society for Obsolescence (SDO, for short). Here they have sacrificed their cells phones and sushi for cigarettes and Tupperware parties. Theoretically, they are going to rediscover their authentic selves by re-enacting the 50s life-style with other like-minded Americans. Part satire of the twenty-first century, part send-up of the 50s, this play squarely drives home an unavoidable truth: Both the twenty-first century and 1955 bring a tsunami of problems to human beings.
That said, we watch the poised Ellen and Dean gradually persuade Katha and Ryu to leave their ungratifying lives in the big city, and to move to the SDO community, if not long-term, for a 6-month trial period. Ellen and Dean, who are wizards at recruiting, realize that they first must dispel Katha and Ryu’s underlying concerns about the SDO (No, it isn’t a “cult” or a 50s theme park!). So instead of a typical hard-sell, Ellen and Dean savvily promote the SDO as a kind of ticket to authenticity, where a person can feel like him, or her, self again. Ellen and Dean also openly address Katha and Ryu’s interracial marriage (Katha is Caucasian and Ryu Asian), assuring the couple that they can live in the northern (and more liberal-minded) area of the SDO. So Katha and Ryu, eager to begin a fresh chapter in their marriage after Katha’s recent miscarriage, decide to give it a go. 4
Harrison is wonderful at evoking the 50s. The exposition is crisply done and colorfully indexes the Eisenhower era. The dialogue is peppered with period phrases (“Don’t be square!”, “Cool it!”, and “Have a blast!”), and much of the action is right out of 50s sitcoms. But you don’t just look at 1955 through rose-colored glasses here. This drama also lets you witness its disturbing repression, prejudices, rigid role-playing for both genders, and its extreme homophobia.
Ann Kauffman has directed with much resourcefulness and a keen eye for incisive minutiae. So you get scenes with Katha, as SDO “newbie,” whipping up tasty casseroles (remember Chicken a la King?) and hors d’oevres like “Pigs in the blanket” and the more exotic “Crab Puffs.” Fortunately, Kauffman doesn’t overdo the culinary concoctions and domestic routines. She also creates a dynamic atmosphere in which characters collide, dialogue meaningfully overlaps, and lives (and decades) intertwine. The charismatic Dean often circulates through the theater’s aisles too, delivering pivotal speeches next to audience members, which makes this show a very intimate experience indeed.
One of the evening’s most powerful scenes involves Ryu and Roger at the box factory in Act 2. Ryu, who has become a crackerjack at assembling cardboard boxes after 5 months employment, asks his manager-trainer Roger for a salary raise. Roger immediately refuses, cavilling Ryu’s request with a fake company policy that “the standard raise is after half a year.” When Ryu tenaciously argues that another employee had secured a raise after only 3 months at the same job, Roger must drop the smoke screen and address the thorny issue: Orientals are seldom promoted or given salary raises at the SDO. Roger sheepishly apologizes, but explains that the Japanese bombing of Pearl Harbor (December 7, 1941) still strongly colors the thinking of those living at the SDO.
Indeed, this play cogently points up how prejudice can be deeply rooted in history, and is extremely hard to uproot. This drama is far from being a history lecture. But there’s no doubt that you will reacquaint yourself with some dark corners of American history here, and learn how benchmarks like Truman’s Evacuation Claims Act (1948) slowly began to repair the damage done to Japanese-Americans during the war .
The acting styles appropriately range from the realistic to the stylized. Trent Dawson, as Dean, is able to push through all the shadings of his complex character. Jean Serralles, who does double duty in the roles of Ellen and Jenna, shows the requisite versatility. Peter Kim gives us a thoroughly convincing portrait of an Asian-American in his Ryu. Very good, too, is Marin Ireland, an actor who has incredible range, and proves it once again, with her Katha. There is racy supporting work from Pedro Pascal, playing the homosexuals, Omar and Roger.
To be sure, Maple and Vine has its dramatic flaws. There are a number of shocking disclosures from key characters late in Act 2, which take place with bewildering rapidity. And though these revelations aren’t really a stretch in this original play, it’s a lot to absorb, and digest, in the closing scenes.
A caveat to younger theatergoers: Maple and Vine will certainly entertain you. But you might not get all the jokes, or cultural references to the 50s era. True, you will likely grasp the passing historical nods to Eisenhower, Nixon, Truman, and Mussolini. But there are other things that might make you scratch your head: Fresh milk bottles left on the porch, vinyl records spinning on the hi-fi, and that literary blockbuster Peyton Place (exquisite set design by David Korins). In short, there are many things presented in this piece that one can’t easily “google.”
Be it said, however, that Maple and Vine grows on you, and will keep you snugly enthralled for 2 hours. Those who have ever toyed with the idea of forsaking their cell phones, and living back in time, this drama just might make you think twice.
Playwrights Horizons, Mainstage Theater, located at 416 West 42nd Street.
Through December 23rd.
Next production: Assistance at the Mainstage Theater, February 3-March 11, 2012
For more information: Call Ticket Central at (212) 279-4200 or visit http://www.playwrightshorizons.org