a A group of former high school students come together for the first time in 20 years to reminisce and reunite – or so that’s the idea. Instead, they end up drinking, fighting, and ruining their midlife disappointments. What finally looks like a typical American reunion drama! – A thoughtful post-pandemic play by Branden Jacobs-Jenkins.
Bigger politics beyond the losses of the coronavirus — America’s role in recent wars, 9/11, the storming of the Capitol, and gun violence — are woven into personality contests and backstories, as well as shadowy memories and the lives of millennials. Malaise, exploring modern American history. of death. An American flag hangs on one side of the porch where this pre-reunion (before the big party) is held, looking more like a subtle rebuke to unquestioned nationalism than an endorsement.
In high school, the group was united by their outsider status. There is a competitive advantage in what they are accomplishing and what they are not accomplishing today. Among them is Ursula (Tamara Laurence), who others whisper to her because of her poor health and eyepatch. Caitlin (Yolanda Kettle) is in the doldrums of her marriage. and Christina (Katie Leung), an anesthesiologist juggling her busy motherhood. Warmth turns to teasing, and soon rifts begin to show and the men, Emilio (Anthony Welsh) and Paco (Ferdinand Kingsley), become clearly competitive.
In some ways, the play follows the great American tradition of depicting family dysfunction, in the tragic mold of Tracy Letts. This once close-knit group seems to have a love-hate relationship, like a family, with memories of the same disputes and bonds that can never be broken.
The two men have the most meaningful tension. Emilio, an artist, is the most successful of the group, but is bullied by the other members for this, while Paco, an outsider in this outsider club, has a history of war that causes seizures. This bout is never fully explained, but it’s floating around along with other ambiguous emotions, from the characters’ sexuality to secret love and violation (there’s one rape accusation).
Under the direction of Eric Ting, fights between friends bring shock and heated exchanges. But the work is never brutal enough. It seems a little polite to vent your anger. The final scene, with fewer characters on stage, feels even more powerful.
In a twist, Reunion-style naturalism meets supernaturalism as the figure of Death rears its head and sounds like a modern-day alien version of the Grim Reaper from The Seventh Seal with ominous audio reverb. A pause in speaking occurs. These interludes increase the horror and move us toward a terrifying denouement that never fully arrives.
Jacobs-Jenkins’ previous film, Suitable, combined family dysfunction and Gothicism to great effect, but the stakes (American history of slavery) were higher and the family more hurt and angry. It was full of. Here, the writing is rich and lively and often explains itself when it doesn’t need to. But some scenes have subtle brilliance. For example, at the end of the play, the two black characters appear alone and speak in a different, more vulnerable and intimate tone.
Even if it’s off-kilter, The Comeuppance is fine theater with eloquent emotional outbursts and clumsy wit. Even after the curtain falls, that theme plays in my head, and I feel relieved when I watch a play that deals with the coronavirus pandemic while facing death directly.
