The News Herald (Willoughby, OH)
Or does it?
Dobama’s engaging ‘Life Sucks’ (literally) asks us to look within ourselves
If you take it upon yourself to attend a play with the title “Life Sucks,” chances are you are hoping and praying that, through the story, you will find myriad reasons why life does NOT suck. Who wants to sit through a “Debbie downer” play that seems to re-enforce every grim thought from the darkest corner of your mind on your very worst day?
Fortunately, Dobama Theatre’s production of Aaron Posner’s “Life Sucks” is a delightful, fresh-faced, albeit darker comedy that renews your faith in … well, you will have to decide what part of your faith needs renewal. You will be asked, and you might even answer.
And whether you choose to engage with the actors, the “askers” of these types of questions, you most definitely will leave the theater pondering these and many other thought-provoking conversations woven throughout this piece.
With a play “sort of adapted from ‘Uncle Vanya’ by Anton Chekhov,” Posner deconstructs the plot, along with its characters dripping in angst and ennui, and puts them all back together under a contemporary lens. A venting session here, an F-bomb there, a sprinkle of self-deprecation and the scent of booze in the air are all part of the atmosphere at Sonia and Uncle Vanya’s home, owned by Sonia’s father, the Professor.
The pontificating Professor is visiting with his third wife, Ella, the object of every man’s affection, especially Vanya’s, who considers Ella to be his destiny
His best friend and neighbor, Dr. Aster, a lover of all things beautiful, natural and alcoholic, is also obsessed with Ella, and he pushes her buttons during an impromptu picnic.
Sonia longs for even a glance from Aster, while Pickles, who lives over the garage, is pining for her ex. Meanwhile, Aunt Babs sits back and watches, occasionally dropping a bread crumb to give us a hint at what she is thinking.
The characters smoothly
transition from the play’s action to dialogue with each other — and the audience. It is not uncommon for plays to use the technique of breaking the fourth wall, where the actors deliver monologues directly to the audience. The uniqueness of an actual dialogue, where the characters encourage back-and-forth conversation is an invitation to commiserate, validate and ultimately support one another through the “stuff” that we all carry with us from day to day. This is an enormous risk for an actor, to have to be accessible enough for an audience to trust and participate in the conversation.
And each one of these talented actors is up to the task.
Chris Bohan, as Vanya, is the captain of the ship. His portrayal of a ticking time bomb navigating love, loyalty, anger and self-pity perfectly straddles the line of reality and absurdity — sort of like life, right?
Andrew Gorell portrays Aster with equal parts bravado and vulnerability. Chennelle Bryant-Harris’s Pickles, is a perky optimist, masking an undercurrent of the fear of letting go.
Jourdan Lewanda is extremely relatable and whimsically witty as Sonia, whose line “…if you look like me, you have to settle for all the Steve Buscemi’s of the world” is a humorous peek at her lack of confidence and astute selfawareness.
Steve Marvel, as the know-it-all Professor, drones on with pompous effect in a delightfully offputting way. Nicole Sumlin is completely charismatic as Ella, who, after being hit on one too many times, exasperatingly asks the audience, “How many of you would like to sleep with me?”
Anne Mcevoy rounds out the talented cast as Babs, who observes, comments and advises in a diplomatically blunt way. Mcevoy gives such an authentic
performance that when she delivers a monologue or speaks directly to us, it is easy to forget we are watching a play.
Kudos to director Nathan Motta, who truly brings this sharp-witted script to life with his focus on character development and his uncanny ability to set the right tempo for each scene and build tension at just the right pace.
This play begins with the actors, in character, setting us up for what we are going to see. Mcevoy points out, as she reminds us to follow COVID-19 protocols and stay masked, that back when theater began, “actors started in masks, and now we, the actors, are up here unmasked, feeling more vulnerable than ever.” A poignant opening remark illustrating that life is ironic.
Without revealing too much, the play ends with an equally poignant question that begs an answer. And as we sit and listen to each other respond from the audience, it is hard not to think that we just went through something together, in a contemplative and entertaining way, and maybe even learned a thing or two about ourselves.
“Life _____.” You decide.