Playwright: Craig Wright
At: Northlight Theatre at the North Shore Center for the Performing
Arts, 9501 Skokie Blvd. in Skokie
Phone: ( 847 ) 673-6300; $34-$54
Runs through: Feb. 26
The ceiling fan and the distant roar of the ocean tell us we are in Florida, where we meet new-age Christians Steve and Sara Hutchinson, Minnesota pilgrims who have come in search of El Dorado—for Steve, a chain of 'gospel hotels', and for Sara, the wherewithal to start a family. Their neighbor is former NASA technician Sam Gavin, recently injured in an automobile accident and mourning the death of his fiancée in same. But as Steve's confidence in his project, his religion and his very identity crumble beyond his ability to sell it in exchange for support, Sara and Sam find their minds meeting in charismatic fellowship. For all three, a crisis of faith is inevitable.
Author Craig Wright obviously wants to say something about comparative spiritual values in our world today. But Grace serves to show that even a writer whose credits include a number of successful TV series can still sabotage his own mission by indulging in the cutesy gimmicks employed by young playwrights mistrustful of their material: Starting his play at the final scene and recounting the story in flashback. Signaling every scene break by freezing the action and dropping the lights, thus increasing the already-excessive running time ( 110 minutes with no intermission ) . An old codger with—you guessed it—a holocaust story. Men who do nothing but THINK and women who do nothing but FEEL. Oh, and a gun.
But if Wright shoots himself in the foot with nearly every step—Did I mention his blending the Hutchinson and Gavin apartments, thus forcing his actors to feign unconsciousness of each other's presence while maneuvering barely inches apart, and us, to waste our attention spans in re-orienting ourselves every time a door opens?—his accomplishments have also blessed him with wunderkind director Dexter Bullard and an ensemble that includes deep-drilling troupers Michael Shannon, Steve Key and Mike Nussbaum ( flanked by Chaon Cross in the thankless role of the lamblike Sara ) . Intensely focused characterizations and meticulously-crafted phrasing keep us engaged while lending shape to a thesis rendered unnecessarily nebulous by its presenter's propensity for getting in his own way.