Kate Huffman and Arianna Ortiz in Friends with Guns at The Road Theatre on Magnolia. (Photo by Brian M. Cole)
Kate Huffman and Arianna Ortiz in Friends with Guns at The Road Theatre on Magnolia. (Photo by Brian M. Cole)

Friends with Guns

Reviewed by Stephen Fife
The Road Theatre Company
Through May 5

Friends with Guns by Stephanie Alison Walker is the kind of new play that subscriber-based theater companies often choose to fill out their season. Relevant topic? Check. Relatable characters? Check. Good roles for actors? Check. The appearance of challenging political correctness without actually offending anyone? Check.

Except I was offended — specifically, by the play’s fast and loose attitude towards guns. I personally believe that America has sold its soul to the NRA and gun dealers. In the play, the character who believes this becomes an object of ridicule for his belief. The performance I attended was on the day after the massacre in New Zealand, and I found myself in no mood to laugh at the danger that guns pose in our lives. I will say that others in the audience didn’t seem to be bothered, and many appeared to enjoy themselves.

The play begins with a prolonged scene of mom Shannon (Kate Huffman) in the local park with her two (offstage) young sons, which leads to her having a meltdown witnessed by Leah (Arianna Ortiz), another mom with two young sons. Rather than judge Shannon, Leah comforts her, empathizing with how stressful raising children can be. This starts a “mom crush” (a mush?) based on Shannon’s wanting to be like Leah — more specifically, wanting Leah’s self-confidence, her ability to shrug off life’s problems and stand up for herself.

Because Shannon is a ball of anxieties and self-recriminations, her marriage with Josh (Brian Graves) is based on her dependence on his approval, even though her work as a real estate broker makes her his financial equal. Josh, in turn, is a textbook liberal, on the politically correct side of all the current issues. He is the kind of man who congratulates himself whenever he happens to fold the laundry “because my dad would never have done that.”  They are happy enough, but isolated in their routine of work and parenting. The prospect of bonding with another couple, especially one who lives in a nicer home on their block, is attractive to both of them.

When we meet Leah’s husband, he turns out to be a former major league baseball player (Christian Telesmar). Everything goes well at first between the two couples, until it comes out that Leah and her husband own lots of guns, including an AR-15. This is a deal-breaker for Josh, who can’t be friends with anyone with these beliefs. Shannon stands behind her husband for the moment, but she doesn’t want to lose her new best friend.

There are some interesting directions that the story could take, but Ms. Walker pursues one in which guns become a metaphor for the problems between Shannon and Josh. This is where I checked out, because guns for me are not a metaphor. But beyond this personal objection, I also found many scenes to be overly long, making the same points over and over. There’s a scene between the two husbands that seems to go on forever, while nothing changes. I don’t know what director Randee Trabitz was going for here and elsewhere, but it wasn’t working.

I liked some of the acting, though I thought it was a mistake to cast a black actor, which Telesmar is, as the enthusiastic gun owner, while making no mention of the reasons why a person of color might want to stock guns. Kate Huffman’s scenes with her husband linger too long on the surface, while her scenes with Arianna Ortiz as her new best friend are filled with nuance and are the best in the play. This may have to do with Ms. Ortiz, who is outstanding. She makes the most of every moment, and brings a depth of conviction and emotional resonance to her character that I found lacking elsewhere in the show.

 

The Road Theatre on Magnolia, 10747 Magnolia Blvd., North Hollywood; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m., Sun., 2 p.m.; through May 5. (818) 761-8838 or www.Roadtheatre.org. Running time: 125 minutes with one intermission.