When a play’s opening moment is mystifying and its closing moment is satisfying, the stuff in between must be doing its job. John Kolvenbach’s Love Song presents us with a young man in a spartan room, silently observing a lamp that seems to have a mind of its own. Love? Song? We have our doubts.
The back wall of the room slides open and reveals a high-rise apartment, sleekly decorated and offering a panoramic view of an unspecified city through a vast window. Enter a couple as sleek as their home, bickering with such intensity – not to mention hilarious verbal agility – that we continue to wonder if love and song will have anything to do with what’s happening onstage.
Indeed, it does. Remy Bumppo’s production, directed by the company’s Artistic Director Marti Lyons, revives a play that premiered at Steppenwolf 18 years ago. Though full of unanswered questions, Love Song proves worthy of another viewing. With equal parts sensitivity and tartness, Lyons and her cast tell the story of Beane (Terry Bell), who suffers from an autism-like condition and spends the play’s 85-minute length defying the expectations of his loved ones.
Actually, it’s just two loved ones: his sister Joan (Sarah Coakley Price), a demanding professional who is lost in a tirade about an incompetent intern; and her husband Harry (Ryan Hallahan), a fellow professional who challenges his wife’s firing of said intern for misdeeds such as crying “at noon!” and temporarily misplacing an important file.
Witty as their banter may be, they are hard to like. When Beane visits his sister and brother-in-law, Harry subjects him to a questionnaire designed to provide psychological insight that mostly makes fun of his literal responses. Joan doesn’t do much to ease the situation.
Beane returns to his empty apartment, where he encounters an intruder by the name of Molly (Isa Arciniegas). She too launches into a tirade, though hers has a very different feel from Beane’s sister. Molly attacks architects and their curated minimalism, meanwhile deriding Beane for his lack of possessions for her to steal. A cup but no plate, a spoon but no fork. “What kind of criminal did you say you were?” he asks with the same literalness that aggravated Harry in the previous scene.
Molly’s brand of burglar remains unknown, but it sure excites Beane’s hormones. Off they go on a passionate adventure that leads Beane to talk so much that Harry now describes him as verbose. Beane’s liberation from his sister and brother-in-law’s (and probably society’s) expectations turns him into a different person altogether. And that jolts Joan and Harry from their calcified marriage into rediscovered sensuality.
Without really addressing the issues at hand, Love Song morphs from rapid fire wordplay into a lyrical romance. As staged by Lyons on a set designed by Joe Schermoly, the transitions from Beane’s lonely planet and Joan and Harry’s fraught high rise seem organic.
The cast, too, seems organic. Each of the actors onstage could have fallen into some sort of cliché – Joan as a career-driven ice princess; Harry as a wisecracking sidekick; Molly as a voracious loony; and most notably, Beane as a victim of the other three. But Coakley Price, Hallahan, Arciniegas and Bell all take charge of their characters and allow us to enjoy their transformations.
Love Song, produced by Remy Bumppo Theatre Company, is playing now through April 21 at Theater Wit. Tickets can be purchased through Theatre Wit’s website.
