Playwright: Aditi Brennan Kapil. At: Victory Gardens Theatre at the Biograph, 2433 N. Lincoln. Phone: 773-871-3000; $20-$48. Runs through: June 14. Photo by Liz Lauren
"You can't think in two languages at once!" insists a character in Aditi Brennan Kapil's romantic comedy, but that's exactly what our author challenges us to do. The adventures of the four conversation-crossed lovers in the play—whose title is a literal translation from American Sign Language of the word "lover"—are recounted in English ( written and spoken ) , the aforementioned American Sign Language ( voiced and unvoiced ) , Sanskrit ( Devanagari and Roman alphabet ) , poetry ( Bhavabhuti and Yeats ) , and the artificially abbreviated idiom generated by satellite-telephone and text message technology. Oh, Victory Gardens Theatre provides us with overlapping screen-projected subtitles, but every instant that we stare at the bare-bones typescript, we miss important information conveyed elsewhere by other means. It's enough to make even the most verbally adept—itself, a translative process—playgoer weep in frustration.
Fortunately, the plot is a familiar one: Deaf Frieda ( "Free" to her intimates ) and hearing Maggie are a lesbian couple. Free has a het hearing sister, Victoria ( aka "Vic" ) , who has a habit of picking the wrong boyfriends. Currently, she's smitten with a visiting academic specializing in Sanskrit literature. It is Free, however, who initiates the e-mail correspondence that wins the affections of the shy Indic scholar. The problem? Thanks to the fanciful sobriquets associated with that medium, Professor Ram believes that Free's contemplatively brainy discourse is actually that of the shallow and airheaded Vic.
This misunderstanding can't continue forever, of course—not in its 1897 prototype, Edmond Rostand's Cyrano de Bergerac, and not in this 2009 Chicago premiere, either. But while audiences may be disappointed by the absence of a conventional "happy ending," Kapil offers satisfaction in that the foolish parties involved in the deception emerge wiser for their experience. So do we, having been forced to explore the boundaries of language and their importance in the meeting—and severance—of differing minds.
This theme could easily have been rendered lugubrious or, worse, pedantic, but Kapil takes full advantage of the humor intrinsic in mistaken-identity scenarios to ease any mental fatigue generated by her cognitive aerobics ( and give sharp-eyed spectators an opportunity to learn how to talk dirty in ASL ) . Rajesh Bose, Liz Tannebaum, Cheryl Graeff and Arlene Malinowski deftly sidestep stereotypes to create affable personalities deserving of our sympathies, while Sandy Shinner's direction and Jeff Bauer's scenic design keeps us always firmly oriented in this polyglot universe so reflective of our own increasingly complex world.