Come Back, Little Sheba

Elia Kazan once said of William Inge that he wrote with "quiet terror". This is a perfect characterization of Come Back, Little Sheba, produced in repertory with Picnic by Off-Broadway's The Transport Group. This 1950s drama begins in the midwestern home of Doc (Joseph Kilinski) and Lola (Heather Mac Rae) Delaney. Marie (Hannah Elless) is an art student boarding in their home, and from the opening moments Doc's attraction to the beautiful young Hannah is palpable. His aversion to her playboy boyfriend Turk (David T. Patterson) goes beyond paternal protection and verges on jealousy. It is revealed early in act I that Doc suffers from alcoholism and Lola encourages his sobriety by asking him to repeat the serenity prayer. This is the only the tip of the iceberg of difficult themes examined in Inge's first play.

Jack Cummings III's production is staged in the round, which allows the audience of under 200 to observe the action up close, as if the characters are under a microscope. The dented kitchen cabinets, scratched coffee table, and torn couch depict a middle class lifestyle and a couple that could have been so much more. The Delaneys married young when Lola, the prettiest girl in her high school, became pregnant. They lost the baby and were unable to have more children, beginning a cycle of loss that included losing their dog, Little Sheba. Lola frequently dreams of Little Sheba and often calls out to her from the front door, as if in a trance. Mac Rae slips into a child-like state when she references her missing dog. Lola does not have the words to express the incredible void in her life and clinging to Little Sheba is her way of holding onto the life that passed her by.

The emotional climax in act II is extremely difficult to watch, but it also features the strongest acting. Doc realizes that Marie has had sex with Turk and he spins out of control, finding solace in a bottle of whisky. Unable to cope with Marie's lost innocence, he stumbles home and takes decades of despair out on Lola. Kilinski's portrayal of an alcoholic at the end of his rope is absolutely gut wrenching. He is erratic, twitchy, and the look in his eye as he berates Lola is nothing short of murderous. His insults are shocking as he calls her fat and a slut. Mac Rae's Lola is resolute on the outside while she is clearly crumbling inside, listening to her husband dig into every insecurity she feels. The most uplifting moment in the show occurs when the neighbor, Mrs. Coffman (Jennifer Piech) comes to her rescue. Her strength and nurturing keeps Lola from falling apart. A few days later, Doc returns and apologizes, though for what he does not remember, realizing how much he needs his wife to retain some semblance of normalcy.

In the final scene, Lola discusses a recent dream and agrees to stop calling for Little Sheba. Doc replies that it doesn't make much sense to continue, and she goes back to scrambling his eggs. They have resumed life as usual, but has anything really been resolved? This is an unfortunate reality for so many small town families as life must go on, and realizing ones dreams is secondary.

The show's themes are heavy, and the small size of the theatre and proximity to the actors increase the intensity exponentially. It is crucial to go into the show in the correct mindset. You cannot see this piece and expect to go about your day normally. It gets under your skin and makes you examine your own family, particularly if you grew up in the Midwest. 

BRIGHT STAR on Broadway

Simply put, Bright Star can be described as Broadway meets Bluegrass. The plot of this musical by Edie Brickell and Steve Martin could easily be a Nicholas Sparks novel, but the music is far more unique. Brickell and Martin capture the heart of the American South in a way that pays nuanced tribute to North Carolina nostalgia. They treat the South with loving care. As someone who grew up on country music, these are songs that would be more capably performed by Alison Krauss than your typical Broadway beltress.

The show begins when Billy Cane (AJ Shively) returns home from the second World War to his backwoodsy North Carolina town. He learns his mother has died and laments her passing, but quickly moves on. He dreams of following his own Bright Star, which is to become a published writer. With the encouragement of his childhood friend Margo Crawford (Hannah Elless) he moves to Asheville in hopes of writing for the Asheville Southern Journal. He soon meets Alice Murphy (Carmen Cusack,) the Journal’s stern editor. She quickly tosses Billy to the curb, but in a moment of fleeting weakness, she gives him a second chance. We are quickly transported back to the 1920s when Alice is a free-spirited teenager in love with Jimmy Ray Dobbs (Paul Alexander Nolan). Alice comes from a working class family, but Jimmy Ray’s father has bigger hopes for his son. When Alice becomes pregnant, Josiah Dobbs (Michael Mulheren) does what he deems necessary to protect his son and ultimately takes Alice’s baby from her, disposing of him off the back of the train. As is the case with all great musicals, things work out for everyone. Alice and Jimmy Ray find one another decades later and fall in love again. Billy becomes a published writer and marries Margo. Oh, and I forgot one small detail…Alice’s baby didn’t die. He was rescued like Moses in a basket by a farmer and his wife; they named him Billy Cane.

If you think I threw that plot twist at you nonchalantly, then you and the show’s audience are in the same boat. The double-timeline structure is a tricky one for an audience to follow, but we will stick with you through the never-ending rising action if the payoff is sweet enough. In this case, the climax was over and done with faster than you could say Yee Haw! Billy invites Alice to visit his family home, she sees the baby sweater she knitted in a box of his old things, they realize they share blood, and they move on happily ever after. Where is Billy’s anger over being lied to by his father? Where is his confusion over which family he should feel allegiance to? Where is his father’s guilt over lying to his son or never helping him to find his birth family? The double timeline and the North Carolina setting do conjure images of a Nicholas Sparks novel, but the questions that are left unanswered and the lack of emotional catharsis are more reminiscent of a lifetime movie.

Though the structure and pacing of the book have serious flaws, the dialogue itself is sharp, witty, and dripping with appropriate southern colloquialisms. The score, both homey and evocative, is hands down the best I’ve heard in show that uses the country vernacular. Walter Bobbie’s direction is as swift and seamless as the clunky book will allow, using stylized movement rather than codified dance to express the melodies and transition between timelines and scenes. Carmen Cusack’s Broadway debut has been a long time coming, but talk about waiting for the perfect role! I have never seen an actress play two distinct ages so convincingly. You believe her when she’s 17 and when she’s 40. For fans of Designing Women, Cusack’s 1940s Alice is a dead ringer for Julia Sugarbaker. She has the musical theatre chops to “act the songs” and develop the character, but in my book nailing this role comes down to that country spirit and she exudes it. Patsy Cline and Dolly Parton would be proud. After having seen this show nearly two weeks ago, Cusack’s performance and the score are two of the three things that have stuck with me. The final thing is one of the most memorable lines I’ve ever heard in a musical: “It would be easier to remove Lincoln’s face from Mt. Rushmore than to remove home from the heart of a Southern Writer.” This motif carries this show, and while it may not sell hundreds of thousands of tickets to a Broadway audience, the sentiment will mean the world to those who get it.