Playwright: Laura Marks. At: Gift Theatre, 4802 N. Milwaukee Ave. Tickets: 1-773-283-7071; www.thegifttheatre.org; $25-$30. Runs through: Aug. 11
Mari gives birth at home using a birthing pool, assisted by a midwife and her husband, Peter. Mere hours later, the baby never having left her side, Mari declares to Peter, "That is not our baby!" Switched at birth by whom and how? With increasing concern, Peter, the midwife and Mari's mother tell her it's impossible. Mari appears to be undergoing an immediate and extreme case of postpartum depression (PPD), which quickly morphs into much rarer postpartum psychosis: Mari is convinced that the baby she is nursing is a changelinga fairy infant magically exchanged for her own.
At first, you think this short, intense play by up-and-coming author Laura Marks is a realistic drama about post-birth emotional trauma; about a mother with such deep feelings of guilt and inadequacy (typical PPD symptoms) that she becomes a danger to her infant and, possibly, herself. Peter, the midwife and Mari's mom share this attitude and even Mari questions her own sanity.
But PPD isn't really Marks' game. By careful degrees she spools out Mine as a thriller when Mari meets Amy in the park, an empathetic young woman wearing an odd diadem ... who just might be a fairy. Through multiple scenes, Mine builds for 75 minutes to a shocking penultimate action involving the baby, reminiscent of notorious moments from Edward Bond's Saved (Great Britain, 1965) and Judith Thompson's The Crackwalker (Canada, 1980). However, unlike those hyperrealistic plays, Mine uses realism to question reality as we perceive it.
This is a smart, sober little show, nicely designed (on the wide but shallow Gift Theatre stage) by Stephen H. Carmody, with lighting by Mac Vaughey, and capably performed by a five-person cast, headed by Hillary Clemens as Mari. It's a tricky role: is Mari psycho or sane? It's difficult for an audience to maintain sympathy for a psycho but Clemens holds on to us even as Mari spirals into a deeper hole.
Parts of Mine are difficult to watchwhich is goodbut much of it is difficult to hear, which isn't good. Memo to directors and actors: whispering and pretending to whisper aren't the same thing. Even in a small storefront theater, you exclude your audience when you play a scene of quiet, intimate conversation by actually having a quiet, intimate conversation. In real life, I could not hear such a discussion if you were 20 feet away and the same applies in a playhouse if I'm sitting 20 feet away from you. Please, just a few more well-enunciated decibels! Also: A doll is used for the baby who never cries or gurgles. Because the baby nearly is ever-present, eventually this becomes a non-realistic distancing device. Presumably this is what Marks intends.