Playwright: Jenny Connell. At: The Gift Theatre, 4802 N. Milwaukee. Phone: 773-283-7071; $25. Runs through: Dec. 13
Our play's setting is the cottage and campground resort on the coast of Maine managed by Vietnam vet Scotty Hammond, host to a pair of midsummer tourists-in-residence ( as opposed to those who stay only for weekends ) . The first is a conscientious New York matron, recently separated from her liberal-activist husband and struggling to cope with the insecurities she projects onto her two precocious daughters. The second guest is a reclusive young ex-serviceman, recently returned from the war in Iraq, with a propensity to PTSD-fueled hallucinations. Do we need to be told that no good will come of this volatile situation?
There's nothing fundamentally untrue in Jenny Connell's thriller: preteens frequently display a fondness for videocam snooping, and adolescents, for testing the boundaries of their sexual power. Nor is it freakish for an abandoned wife to seek the comforting arms of a compliant gentleman ( especially one conveniently distant from her own social circle ) . And the phenomenon of surviving warriors suffering nightmares based in atrocities witnessed—or perpetrated—in combat has been observed for as long as there have been armed conflicts.
Summer People could have emerged a sweetly tragic domestic romance not unlike the Harlequins that comprise the older girl's reading matter. What undermines even the superficial credibility necessary to the genre, however, is the tidiness with which the emotions, and subsequent actions, of its stereotypical personnel bend to narrative expedience. By the time Connell's "shocking" ending brings the lock-step plot to an abrupt halt ( not one extra minute is expended on its consequences ) , we have not only seen it coming long before, but grown downright impatient waiting for it—this, in a show running only slightly over one hour.
The cast assembled under Paul D'Addario's direction strive mightily to breath plausibility into their one-dimensional characters, as does the always-capable Gift Theatre technical staff—Joe Court's sound design goes a long way toward locating us in our shifting environments. Nevertheless, the production cannot shake off an undeniable schoolroom ambience ( did nobody in the company know the correct pronunciation of "irrevocable"? ) . To be sure, the extension of the Jeff-Recommended Ruby Sunrise may have made for unexpected adjustments in the Gift Theatre's fall play schedule, mandating that a script be called into readiness before its completion. But haste, as the saying goes, makes for waste in this instance.
