Playwright: Tracy Letts
At: Steppenwolf Theatre, 1650 N. Halsted
Phone: 312-335-1650; $20-$65
Runs through: Aug. 26
BY MARY SHEN BARNIDGE
If Eugene O'Neill's Long Day's Journey Into Night had instead been written by Beth Henley instead, it might have emerged looking a little like Tracy Letts' August: Osage County—but only a little, for this latest play from the gifted author of such widely diverse dramas as Killer Joe, Bug and The Man From Nebraska is more than the sum of its parts. The action may center on two generations of sisters, but the characters comprising their ranks exist on multiple levels—as individuals, as siblings, as participants in a seriously destructive family dynamic, and as survivors struggling to make their way in the world outside the restrictive environment that shaped them.
We meet them during a sweltering summer in Pawhuska, Okla., in a towering Victorian house with no air-conditioning—discomfort mandated by the clan matriarch, who rules the household with an iron hand encased in a dainty lace glove. The copious medications to remedy the distress engendered by chemotherapy for oral cancer only serve to exacerbate her petty tyranny. Small wonder that her husband, after hiring a capable housekeeper, flees the homestead, never to return. What follows is the story of how those left behind engineer their various escapes—liberation crippled by compromise and denial, but ventured nevertheless.
Speeding up the pace of this Dickensian yarn by a millisecond would have resulted in a cartoon as savage as anything in Joe Orton or Christopher Durang—and as ultimately harmless, permitting us a smug chuckle ( from a safe distance, of course ) at monsters. But director Anna D. Shapiro and a cast dominated by seasoned Steppenwolf players keep the scope no bigger than life, the psychological manipulations well within the realm of socially-acceptable cruelty. And so the agony, however appalling, never descends to melodrama—nor does it let us off the hook.
Deanna Dunagan delivers a blistering portrayal of a mother to make The Beauty Queen of Leenane's mom look like June Cleaver, flanked by Rondi Reed as her vulgar sister and Amy Morton as the daughter in danger of inflicting the inhumanity on another generation. Sally Murphy and Mariann Mayberry contribute valiant portraits of self-effacing younger sibs, as do Jeff Perry, Rick Snyder, Ian Barford, Troy West, Dennis Letts and Francis Guinan as the male consorts who tolerate, but cannot circumvent, the sororal warfare ( though occasionally a worm gently turns ) . Quieter yet, but no less impressive, are Fawn Johnstin and Kimberley Guerrero as, respectively, the withdrawn grandchild and impassive servant in whom reside our hope for the future.