Tasha Ames and Jenny Woo (photo courtesy of The Skylight Theatre)
Reviewed by Deborah Klugman
Skylight Theatre
Through October 1
What does it take to be a caring mother? And why bear a child if you grasp beforehand that the pain, the hardships — and the apocalyptic threat of climate change! — are likely to pursue a person born today into a traumatic future?
These questions arise in Hungry Ghost — playwright Lisa Dring’s ambitious but less than cohesive drama, best welcomed as an interesting work-in-progress, albeit handsomely and attentively staged by director Jessica Hanna.
Dring’s pivotal character, Dean (Jenny Woo), is a pregnant woman living with her loving spouse Amanda (Tasha Ames) in their bucolic home only recently bequeathed to Dean by her deceased mom. For Amanda, the gift of the house is a stroke of good fortune, enabling the couple to raise their child in stable, comfortable surroundings. But for Dean, who disliked her mother and has mixed feelings about living in a place with uncomfortable memories, it’s a dubious blessing — all the more so when a hermit (Ben Messner), rumored to be living outside their home, turns up inside her head.
Before that, we’re privy to Amanda and Dean as they engage in a standard, (and from a theatrical standpoint, bromidic) relationship. The sunny-natured Amanda openly and frequently expresses her love and joy at the opportunity to share her life with the woman of her choice. While the commitment is mutual, Dean is made of more neurotic stuff. Something is always bothering her, whether it’s irksome recollections of her mother or a reluctance to let people know she’s pregnant (they may want to touch her) or the most recent disparaging — as interpreted by Dean — glance by the white cashier at the supermarket.
The appearance of the hermit, at first tentative and mysterious, disrupts this relationship — and transforms the play. Powered by Messner’s intense charisma, a shallow narrative segues into a more layered examination of parent-child relationships and the search for purposeful existence in a crowded judgmental world.
One of the problems with the drama is the too sketchy portrait of Dean’s mother, who never takes shape as anything more than a plot device to feed Dean’s conflict with Amanda (more illuminating anecdotes would be helpful). Dean’s brother Sam has been coveting the property where the women live, surely a potent conflict, but this is only briefly mentioned late in the narrative. Dean herself is something of a cypher; the personal catharsis she experiences at the climax has minimal impact because her internal journey to get there hasn’t been laid out clearly enough for it to feel meaningful.
As Dean, Woo must contend with the limitations of the role as written and never quite succeeds in overcoming them. Ames bestows Amanda with a warm attractive presence. (Everyone deserves a partner with such patience.) Messner’s powerhouse turn — is the hermit real or a specter or a figment of Dean’s imagination? — transcends the need to interpret or intellectualize: He’s mad and he’s menacing, and his performance injects the production with a pulsating dynamic.
Technical director Benjamin Rawls coordinates an accomplished tech. Joseph “Sloe” Slawinski’s sound design weaves music and effects for a vibrant aural backdrop that adds spookiness to the story. Brandon Baruch’s lighting and Nick Santiago’s projections work in tandem to create the illusion of shadows on scenic designer Yuri Okahana-Benson’ set. Mylette Nora’’s costuming of the hermit underscores his recreant essence. Minor special effects, like plants that suddenly seem to sprout and grow of their own accord, act as metaphor for (my interpretation) a nature that eludes our control.
Skylight Theatre, 1816 1/2 N. Vermont Ave, Los Feliz. Opens Sat., Aug. 26; Sat., 8:30 pm, Sun., 3 pm, Mon., 7:30 pm; thru Oct. 1. https://SkylightTix.org. Running time: 90 minutes with no intermission.
