Some Girl(s)

Reviewed by Holly Bartges

Why on earth would anyone in their right mind take the action Guy takes in Neil LaBute’s jarring play Some Girl(s)?

The cast of Firehouse Theater Company’s Some Girl(s) Photo by Brian Miller

And why, would four women, after so long a time, agree to meet Guy in his hotel room, especially when they have all moved on in their lives?

After being hurtfully crushed once, do they want to live through the hurtfully crushed again?

Those are the questions rustling through the mind while absorbing the Firehouse Theater Company’s outstanding production at the John Hand Theatre.

Jono Waldman performs Guy with an incredible eager, manipulative mask leaking nervousness, as Guy rightfully should be. Living in New York, a writer projecting intimate knowledge of relationships, he contacted four women he once-upon-a-time swam through dubious relationships wanting closure, so he says.

Why would he want closure with Sam, 18 years after he walked away from her? He has good reason to be nervous in the Seattle hotel room waiting for Sam to arrive. The awkward dance of the Nervous Waltz between the two when she does arrive is performed with graceful twitching from who speaks first, who takes the lead?

Emily Patton Davies’ as Sam provides sheer classic performance. Now married with three children, Sam tap dances through the waltz. Arriving at 2:30, she needs to be home by 3 for her kids. Why after 18 years has he now broken the silence? Sam’s nervousness twists into anger remembering they once talked about marriage. There was the rumor floating around about another girl, and then he just disappears. Her remembering flags living through the painful memory. He gets far more then what he bargained for. Davies total experience with Sam takes the breath away.

From Seattle he flies to Chicago encountering Tyler. Lisa DeCaro’s invention of the free spirited, grab-hold-of-the-sexual-revolution-pot- smoking-dripping-with-sensuality Tyler turns Guy on and off like a shorted out light switch. DeCaro’s adorable in perpetual motion of the seductive good time girl. In spite of her fun-loving nature, she remembers his mind romped somewhere else. Sharp, quick, intelligent, DeCaro’s Tyler mixes stinging moments with oozing come-hither sensuality.

In Boston, Lindsay doesn’t need to be reminded of the significance of Room 1027. Her husband got Guy his first teaching job, and in Room 1027 Lindsay and Guy carried on an affair. Janna Goodwin’s professional manner with Lindsay stands tall in front of the passionate relationship until truth squirmed its way into the open. Guy disappeared leaving Lindsay to face the music. Coy, conniving, deliberate Lindsay comes to the hotel room with a plan. Closure is what he wants. Closure is what he gets with a gripping performance from Goodwin.

In Los Angeles, Guy nearly bites off more than he can chew with his not so subtle entanglement with Bobbi stunningly played by Susan Scott. While together, Guy worked on his Òhonesty thingÓ. With incredulous revenge sparking from her eyes, Bobbi strips Guy of emotional and mental pretense, luring him first into a mind game over her twin sister. Hurt feelings on both sides develop into a knock-down floor fight realistically choreographed leaving the audience holding its breath. Scott’s performance is brilliantly riveting.

Lee A. Massaro’s direction accomplished sound motivation with two characters in a hotel room keeping the flow and action moving. She keeps her characters in believable action crisscrossing each other, symbolically moving toward and away from each other.

The very end of the play tends to become tedious. Not a production problem as it is a script problem. It certainly isn’t because of the direction or characterizations. The tediousness comes with Guy’s long monologue attempting to climb out of a hole he dug and Bobbi pushed him into. Guy’s truth destroys his honesty onto fragments of conniving deception. Any explanation he has comes bearing holes. The more he tries to explain, the taller his phony self-centered abuse straddles his entire being.

He’s a writer, after all, and writers like to sell manuscripts. Money speaks.

Brian Miller designed the hotel room setting, making straightforward quick changes between cities to denote the varied locations.

When the play comes to its logical conclusion, the question “Why?” permeates. Why does this play of abuse and victimization resonate with an audience? The answer strings out scary revelations concerning the amount of abuse and victimization running rampant in our society.

We all have dumped and we all have been dumped. We have been hurt and we have done the hurting, sometimes deliberately, sometimes in ignorance, Generally speaking we grow in wisdom and move on. Why didn’t these four magnificently cast characters just tell Guy to blow it out his ear? First, and most obviously, there would be no play. Second, and almost as obvious, the nature of humanity’s beast revels in the dwelling on hurting and being hurt without letting go. No one need look very far for evidence.

Perhaps a healing agent lurks within the context of LaBute’s stunningly written play causing the questions to be asked.

Fascinating concept.

Enough fascination attached to Some Girl(s) that shouts Don’t miss Firehouse’s production.