Playwright: Shepsu Aakhu
At: MPAACT Theatre at Victory Gardens, 2257 N. Lincoln Ave.
Phone: ( 773 ) 871-3000; $22
Runs through: March 12
BY MARY SHEN BARNIDGE
Sloan's an astronomer, which also makes him an expert on astrology and
Greek myth. Dakota was a child prodigy, and thus is accustomed, even decades later, to speaking her mind with defiant conviction. Oh, and he's diabetic and she's manic-depressive, so neither of them ever leave his or her home. They chat at great length via cell-phone and e-mail, however—conjuring fantasy dates, swapping intimate confessions and speculating on the attractions of a twin suicide ( 'I can't get into heavy commitments right now' ) . For awhile, this is enough, but by act two of Shepsu Aakhu's romantic two-hander, the relationship has got to go SOMEwhere. Whether it ends happily or not depends on your definition of romance.
And you'd better be a romantic, yourself, because the minute these lovers are viewed with intellectual detachment, the entire premise collapses like a house of cheap Valentine cards. Why have neither of them been assigned a shrink to disabuse them of the notion that their conditions require seclusion? How many times must Dakota throw the usual tantrums associated with bipolars—threatening to gobble all her pills at once, for example—before Sloan becomes inured to her manipulative demands for attention? Why, calling 911 and remembering that he doesn't know Dakota's address, does Sloan not think to give her phone number? Why doesn't Dakota even TRY to summon paramedics when Sloan ODs? Why should we care about two people so obviously enamored of their own melancholy and the inertia it confers on them?
This is not to say Aakhu's play is not well-executed. The potential for aural monotony suggested by a dialogue between self-styled prisoners is mitigated by a 'soundscape' of incidental music supplied by Gullah Magic and three live-performance vocalists concealed on the set. And Director Mignon McPherson Nance provides Leonard House, Jr. and Angela Walsh ( the latter costumed to look more skeletal than she actually is—did I mention that Dakota has an eating disorder? ) stage business sufficiently varied to maintain visual interest.
Ultimately, however, these talking heads are rooted in artificial constructs invoked as a showcase for the playwright's considerable virtuosity with the aesthetic of 17th-century poetry. If that's your cup of hemlock, this is your perfect Date Play.