Madelynn Fattibene and Erika Soto (Photo by Daniel Shoenman)
Reviewed by Deborah Klugman
Zephyr Theatre
Through July 20
RECOMMENDED
Since the overturning of Roe v. Wade in June 2022, a tsunami of fear and doubt has swept through the lives of millions of women across the nation. The freedom to choose is no longer available to every woman who would opt to use it. The parade of tragic events likely to ensue from this partisan ruling has only just begun.
Not that the matter of abortion and choice has ever been easy. The decision on whether or not to bear a child is, for many, difficult and draining. The pressure to be the bearer of life can seem ubiquitous, sometimes springing from the most unlikely sources,
In her finely wrought Here Comes The Night, playwright Lisa Kenner Grissom writes about a woman in the midst of making just such a choice. Olivia (Madelynn Fattibene), a person in her mid 40s currently married, has spent her past years dodging motherhood using the array of birth control methods available to women who choose not to become pregnant. But now, here she is, late in the game, a woman with child following an indifferent tryst with her husband, a rock musician on tour for weeks and months at a time.
Since Olivia lives in California, she has easy access to mifepristone and misoprostol, two drugs one can self-administer to end a pregnancy within the first 70 days of gestation. Olivia doesn’t want to be alone when she does this, so she invites an old friend Maggie (Erika Soto), whom she hasn’t seen or spoken to in a long time, to be her companion and, partly, her guide. She thinks Maggie may be suitable for this role because of their history as friends and because Maggie is an influencer of sorts (a life style coach with 9000 followers on the internet. we learn later). Olivia once had a positive experience at a New Age type retreat Maggie had invited her to, so even though Olivia is a down-to-earth realist kind of person, she’s trusting that Maggie may be right for this occasion.
But when Maggie arrives, Olivia is immediately beset with doubts. Her old friend has evolved into this self-consuming narcissist who has hardly said hello before she’s pulling out her phone to photograph — and comment on — the moment. Saccharine cliches fairly slide off her tongue. She’s in Olivia’s company, but hardly seems to see her, or hear her. She’s rotating around some planet of her own making eons away from Olivia and her difficult moment.
Perhaps the most arresting aspect of Here Comes the Night is how artfully the playwright approaches a subject that, in the hands of a lesser writer, might play as a message piece, satisfying in its theme but blunt in its delivery. There’s nothing of that here. Instead, Grissom enfolds a story involving abortion and women’s choices into a bigger story about friendship, how the currents of our lives may sweep us in different, unexpected directions, and how difficult it is for some people to live truthfully, without resort to the balm of self-deception.
Directed by Hailey McAfee, both actors could not have served the material better. Soto’s self-consumed narcissist takes center stage much of the time, her self-aggrandizement, in tandem with a sweet smile and evidently clueless mindset, a source of great humor mixed with total outrage at her insensitivity (Thank heavens she’s not in my life.) But Fattibene, whose character watches, listens, and reacts along with the rest of us, is just as on point as Soto in the flashier role, garnering our empathy as she deals with her character’s inner loneliness and the path forward she has chosen.
Here Comes the Night has been staged as part of She Arts LA Festival for two performances only, the remaining one on Saturday, July 20. While the set is minimal, the impact and professionalism of this production is on a par with one fully staged for a longer run. For example, the play is set locally in Olivia’s home in the hills in the midst of nature, and to this end Andrea Allmond’s sound design adds to the sense of a greater force that encircle’s people’s lives, while Zoia Wiseman’s lighting aptly shifts from the brightness of day to a subtler, more Cimmerian night.
Zephyr Theatre, 7456 Melrose Ave., W. Hollywood. Sat., July 20, 2:30 pm. http://www.shenycarts.org/
