The clash of values was often wacky enough to be comic, but oh so true to life. Concerning religious tolerance, for example, it would be okay with the birth mother if the adoptive father was Jewish so long as the kid got to celebrate Christmas and Easter.
The author's strategy of contrasting knee-jerk liberals against "a bunch of dumb rednecks" was repeated just a tad too often: Thus, swimming pools vied with sprinklers; rock and country lost to Pachelbel; even Jello won out over fresh fruit (but not canned peaches); and the N-word cut deeper than "Afro-American" ever could.
All the acting was excellent; and the Southern "trailer trash" accents were impressive. The director could have jacked the energy up a notch or two, or perhaps given some fearful actors more confidence - for the acting talent was obvious and the script was secure in its support.
Jana Brockman's wonderful performance as a woman who knew more about suffering the barefoot squalor of perpetual pregnancy than the freedom of a flat stomach was simply heartbreaking.
You could believe that Matthew J. Dudley was capable of domestic violence ("He doesn't hit hard, just for the show"). His lanky posture, meant to convey a villain's pride, never failed to reveal a sadder lack of self-esteem.
Ellen Barrett played a prospective mother hard to like, all nervous smiles checking out the gene pool in a trailer court ("You've done a lot with the space!"). She knew how to find the right emotions in herself; but her strained effort sometimes made her seem like a sleepwalker crying real tears.
Jon Sperry was fine as a Jewish, Pepto-Bismol-toting mama's boy, too squeamish to watch an actual birth. "Jews don't have unwanted children," he tells his Mom when asked why he couldn't purchase one of his own kind.
Abby Abernathy was convincing, although too low-key, as the family lawyer.
A tacky set (by Dick Warren), faithfully representing a tacky trailer environment - complete with egg crates and wire hanger TV antenna - was transformed with fabric and velcro into an Act Two hospital scene. Lighted by Mike McLaughlin, it sufficed. Amplified sounds, such as that of an unexplained growling dog, were less effective than watching people trying not to hear the embarrassing sound of off-stage urination, which revealed character and made its point.
The humanity of this play was subtle but solid. The writer will serve her talent even better when she gets around to tackling more substantial themes.
Copyright 1999 Marshall Yaeger