Salter riveting in First Stage’s ‘Mockingbird’
Actress captures complexities of life as an autistic child
Caitlin, the fiercely bright but struggling 11-year-old at the heart of Julie Jensen’s “Mockingbird,” doesn’t much like the way colors blur into one another. Hence while she loves to draw, Caitlin sticks to black and white; it tells her where she is in space. Caitlin also is autistic. And she hates change.
That puts Caitlin in a rough spot when things get underway in Jensen’s adaptation of Kathryn Erskine’s moving novel of the same name, in a production that opened Friday at First Stage under Marcella Kearns’ direction. Caitlin’s older brother, Devon — who’d protected and guided her — is dead, victim of a school shooting.
Already wary of the world beyond her vigorously defended personal space, Caitlin now sees it as more hostile than ever. That’s made amply clear in high-school senior Alex Salter’s riveting, wrenching performance as the lead in the cast of alternating young performers. (She shares this demanding role with Emily Harris.)
When well-wishers try to commiserate with Caitlin following Devon’s funeral, Salter gives us a Caitlin intent on avoiding them.
In this scene and many to follow at school, Caitlin struggles to make eye contact with those around her. An ensemble of classmates is perceived as faceless and menacing projectiles; Salter tucks in her elbows and pulls down her sleeves, curling in on herself as she tries to steer clear of them. Benign but unexpected noises, including the school bell, startle her.
Salter navigates this world through painstakingly linear movement. Through loudly enunciated, carefully articulated sentences, reflecting the ruthless precision with which Caitlin tries to hold her place and keep everything around her the same. And through the sheer terror, Caitlin endures when things nevertheless change, triggering spirals of panic.
Well-intentioned as they are, the adults around Caitlin — a grieving father (Dan Katula), school counselor (Marvette Knight) and fifth-grade teacher (Elyse Edelman) — often can do only so much to help her. In a story that’s seen largely through Caitlin’s eyes, they can seem flat. Ditto most of Caitlin’s classmates.
The exception is Michael (Cole Sison, in this performance), a first-grader with whom Caitlin establishes an improbable but credible friendship, rooted in the shared experience of tragedy and Michael’s sweet, guileless honesty.
Caitlin’s ensuing steps forward aren’t always dramatically earned. While this adaptation’s truncated scenes cover a lot of ground, they also sacrifice much of the texture provided through the novel’s more sustained engagement with Caitlin’s voice.
But Salter’s performance makes up for a lot. There’s nothing freakish and not a shred of condescension in it; Salter consistently fosters empathy rather than playing for pity. This Caitlin earns our respect. The world’s many Caitlins deserve nothing less.