Playwright: Brian Sloan. At: Project 891 Theatre Company at Chemically Imbalanced, 1422 W. Irving Park Rd. Tickets: 773-835-3210; www.brownpapertickets.com; $20. Runs through: Aug. 12
We all remember the jumpers after the planes crashed the Twin Towers, but do we ever think about the office drone who started down the elevator to the ground floor seconds earlier and stepped out on the sidewalk to find himself surrounded by a rain of falling bodies? How about the Upper West Side matron who, hearing of a "fire" in faraway lower Manhattan, kept her hair appointment, only to be later reviled for unconscionable vanity? What about the hotel concierge reduced to sleeping in his workplace's banquet room when stranded travelers occupy every available bed in Manhattan? Or a 33-year-old gay male looking for a roommate to share rent on an East Village apartment with a panoramic view of theyou guessed itWorld Trade Center?
With so many images facilitating heaps of weeps, who cares about these minimally damaged survivors? Playwright Brian Sloan doesthat's who. The protagonist of his play is the aforementioned apartment's leaseholder, already in emotional turmoil following a rift with his Brooklyn-based boyfriend, suddenly endowed with a ringside seat of the holocaust. As prospective co-tenantsmany displaced from their own lodgings by the upheavalrespond to his now chillingly ironic advertisement, they bring with them their own experiences, observations and, sometimes, comfort.
That's rightcomfort. For us, as for distraught sublettor Eric, the ease with which we become so focused on the cataclysm that we allow its after-effects to fester within its victims until they erupt in full Post-Traumatic-Stress collapse. Eric ignores his own reactions, rejecting his girl-pal's advice and his ex-lover's offer of company, and listening impassively as others are compelled to share their personal recollections. When a trivial incident triggers a full-out breakdown, his sole witness is a bewildered college student seeking new quarters after vowing not to join his peers in fleeing the devastated city.
Any play invoking the events of 9/11 risks becoming an exercise in hankie-wringing, but a good cry is not director Michael Rashid's goal. If Sloan's characters serve to illustrate the steps leading to recovery from sudden loss, the actors portraying our damaged survivor's rescuers likewise emphasize the roll-up-your-sleeves-and-deal-with-it kind of resiliency that subverts terrorism more effectively than any amount of flag-waving "get the bastards" oratory. In a universe beset by the unexpected, are these skills not always handy to have?