Vermont
In 1972, a married urban couple travel to a commune on a self-sustaining farm run by his former college roommate hoping to help save their marriage.
[avatar user=”Victor Gluck” size=”96″ align=”left”] Victor Gluck, Editor-in-Chief[/avatar]
There is a truism in theater – or should be – that playwrights should not be allowed to direct the first production of their own plays. First of all, another pair of eyes is necessary to view what works and what doesn’t and what is missing. An author can be too close to the material to see what is really on the stage. And playwrights may not want to make necessary cuts or additions, being too fond of various passages.
This is only part of the problem with Rachel Carey’s new play Vermont, an innocuous trip back to 1972 when would-be hippies fled corporate America and headed for communes in the country. There are also no details or anecdotal evidence of the period except for a single reference to President Nixon being in what would be his first term. The author may just be too young to know about the reality of that era.
Another head scratcher is that advance publicity on the play calls it “an uproarious comedy”; however, as there are no more than two laughs in the whole play as currently produced on the stage of the wild project, this is a false description. While the play involves a story of a married urban couple who travel to Vermont to join a self-sustaining commune run by his former college roommate, there are no surprises and the events are very predictable, with all of the revelations left for the final scene.
Though the play isn’t boring, the direction allows the play to drag. The scene changes for the 13 episodes (with Jeff McCrum’s lighting design going to black between each) are interminable though only props are added or subtracted during the endless blackouts. And the multi-scened play is like a television or movie script rather than a stage play. One can only be reminded that the last two generations of playwrights have been brought up entirely on film and television, not live theater which does not have the same needs.
The thin plot follows Mina and Dan, a married couple, accountants both, who are getting bored with their city life, and hope by joining a commune and living on the land they will restore the spark in their marriage. At the Harmonic Love Commune, they meet sensitive Paul who feels guilty that his corporate work in Chicago as lawyer hurt a great many people, Thea who ran away from home at age 15, and Natalie who is into order and rules. Ray on whose land they are living is a laid back soul who doesn’t believe in rules or order and thinks things will work themselves out. However, as Natalie, the voice of reason, reminds them there are taxes to be paid and fuel to be paid for in winter.
Mina and Dan are at first excited by their new life until they discover that they have to pay a monthly fee and are confused by the offer of free love and sex among the residents. Eventually, Dan goes into town and gets a paying job as an accountant while Mina finds herself stuck doing housework as she did in their urban life. Sexism rears its ugly head in this time before feminism and the #metoo movement. As Mina and Dan drift further apart, other fissures appear in the community organization. The ending is ironic but not the least bit funny or comic.
The saving grace of the play is that the roles are very clearly defined by the actors who make the play better than it has any right to be. Zachary Speigel’s Dan beautifully demonstrates his confusion and bewilderment as to what he wants out of life. As Dan’s wife, a woman of middle eastern ancestry fighting racism and ignorance, Sadithi De Zilva suggests a great deal more than her lines allow. Rob Riordan’s Paul attempts to be a good guy to all while he suffers his own guilt in silence. As 19-year-old Thea who loves to cook, Alexandra Sumakis retains her air of innocence and purity although she always appears to be amenable to a sexual encounter. Cian Genaro’s rarely seen Ray is both infuriatingly easy going and mellow as well as ultimately sexist and hypocritical.
The unit set with its kitchen, bedroom and living area set-ups is uncredited. However, Yolanda Balaña’s costumes in mostly solid colors misses the real feel of the hippie generation with its tie-dyed fabrics and mixing of colors and styles. Carey’s direction is only good when she leaves the actors to their own devices at creating character. An interesting failure, Vermont attempts to recreate a story of the era of communes and hippies but does not seem to know much about it.
Vermont (through July 30, 2023)
Thirdwing
the wild project, 193 E. 3rd Street, between Avenues A and B, in Manhattan
For tickets, visit http://www.thirdwing.info
Running time: one hour and 40 minutes without an intermission
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