Andre Johnson and Leah Haile (Photo by Paul Davis)
Reviewed by Steven Vargas
Sawyer’s Playhouse at Loft Ensemble
Through September 1
Brendan (Harry Fakora) knows he did something bad. He’s panting and his eyes droop like a basset hound. He holds two Harvard admission letters in his hand — an acceptance for him and a rejection for his brother. He shoves them both underneath the couch cushion. He feels guilty, that’s for sure, but it doesn’t translate. His guilt feels halfhearted, even when tears stream down his face like rivers.
No Desire to Suffer Twice is a new play by Cris Eli Blak making its world premiere at Sawyer’s Playhouse at Loft Ensemble in North Hollywood. The show follows two brothers, Brendan and Cedric (Antwan Alexander II), navigating their past and future. Their past: Brendan, a white kid who is the son of a drug addict, was adopted by a Black family and becomes Cedric’s brother. Their future: They both applied to Harvard Business School, but Cedric — the smarter one — didn’t get in while Brendan holds onto a secret that got him the golden ticket.
The show juggles a lot of heavy topics, from racism to drug addiction to the 9/11 attacks. However, the thread weaving all of them together isn’t strong enough. Each theme battles for attention throughout the show. The plot is overall scattered. The script needs tightening and context, especially with its introduction of 9/11, which requires more thoughtful context than the play can tackle. The dissection of racial issues into the dialogue is well crafted, though didactic at times. The characters are dynamic and interesting enough to carry the themes Blak tries to convey without also needing to tell the audience. It’s shown on stage simply with their presence and interactions.
Many of the performances are lackluster, especially those of the leading duo. Some scenes feel like line readings while others feel like genuine interactions. This progression is best shown through the scenes in the basement with Cedric and Olivia (Leah Haile), the daughter of Cedric and Brendan’s landlord. She enters and begins to flirt, but it’s awkward. She just stands there while he’s in his own world. The lines don’t land for Cedric or the audience. By the second scene, however, the flirting feels real. The words come out more naturally as if the performers have found the beats in the scene to make each flirtatious sentence build tension.
Matt Lorenzo’s direction is also lacking. Often, actors are caught between their intuition and stagnant blocking, which leaves them shuffling back and forth in a single spot onstage. In a heated climax, Fakora stands in the corner shouting, dragging his feet while other actors similarly tether from one furniture piece to the next. The movement needs intention and specificity, especially in these weighted scenes. Where the direction and performance work best is when Zeus (Thando Skwatsha), a drug dealer, walks in on Brendan and his girlfriend Sadie (Xanxan Beneche) talking to each other while wrapped in each other’s arms.
The performances shine the most when the actors are atop a small platform that drops down from the wall like a hidden Murphy bed. The area takes the characters outside the basement to a bus station or hospital. This dynamic space (scenic designers Matthew Scheel and Madylin Sweeten) is so compact that it forces Lorenzo to make more specific direction choices for intimate performances. When that happens, the heart of the play becomes visible.
The best work comes from supporting performers Skwatsha as Zeus and Sweeten as Brita, Brendan’s sister. Skwatsha, who is employed by Brendan’s friend Manny (Esteban Vasquez) to liven up the party, has great comedic timing and versatility switching easily between a dry delivery and a more animated one. In his last moments on stage, he opens up about his father. While other actors like Vasquez yell louder to show anger, Skwatsha smartly keeps his voice down, instead letting the words pierce the air. When he whispers, “No one knew his name,” it’s haunting and heartbreaking.
Similarly, Sweeten doesn’t play her character as a caricature but embodies it, balancing the abrasive lines with the softer ones to display the genuine struggle of an addict. She and Skwatsha steal their respective scenes.
No Desire to Suffer Twice is a promising story with a scattered execution. There are plot lines and performances that might make for a compelling work of theater, but the show needs more rehearsal time.
When Brendan shoves the letters underneath the couch cushion, an ongoing state of tension is established. As characters walk around the couch and sit on it, the potential for chaos builds. He holds onto a big secret that got him into the school — one that impacts the entire friend group. But the quality of the performance makes the punch feel more like the cushion it hides under.
Sawyer’s Playhouse at Loft Ensemble, 11031 Camarillo St, North Hollywood. Fri.-Sat., 8 pm, Sun., 7 pm; thru Sept. 1. https://www.loftensemble.org/event-details/no-desire-to-suffer-twice-by-cris-eli-blak-2024-08-16-20-00. Running time: two hours with a 10-minute intermission.
