Lane Wray and Meg Wallace (Photo by Mike Casey)
Lane Wray and Meg Wallace (Photo by Mike Casey)

How I Learned to Drive

Reviewed by Deborah Klugman
Collaborative Artists Ensemble
Through March 19

Paula Vogel’s play, How I Learned to Drive, knocked it out of the park for critical acclaim when it opened in 1997. Directed by Mark Brokaw at Manhattan’s Vineyard Theatre, the premiere featured Mary-Louise Parker as a woman recounting the pain of her teen and pre-teen years under the sway of her pedophile uncle, with David Morse as said predator, a soft-spoken well-mannered “Southern boy” infatuated with his prey. As written, the play is an exquisitely shaded portrait       of co-dependence and obsession where, notwithstanding the disturbing nature of the material, the humanity of both principal characters is represented in all its compelling complexity.

The story, set in a rural stretch of Maryland in the 1960s, is built around the recollections of a 30 or 40-something woman (Vogel is intentionally non-specific), known, to her family of coarse squabbling relatives, as Li’l Bit (Meg Wallace). These family members include her chauvinistic grandpa — the sort of crude, ugly-spirited man who believes women belong exclusively in the bedroom and the kitchen — as well as her grandma, who married this oaf at 14, and her mother and aunt. None of these women are kind or nurturing, so Li’l Bit gravitates for counsel and affection to her aunt’s husband, Uncle Peck (Lane Wray).

On the surface, Uncle Peck is a responsible, reassuring adult, but in fact he’s a troubled man who early on develops an attachment to his niece that warps into an illicit sexual craving he seems powerless — or perhaps has only declined — to resist. Li’l Bit, for her part, hungers for his solicitude and attention, even as she twitches and chafes at his inappropriate touch, which occurs on manifold occasions. A lot of the abuse transpires in a car, where Peck has wrangled his niece on the pretext of teaching her to drive. Each scene in the play is punctuated at the top with a specific instruction relating to this skill, which is pedantically delivered by a “driving instructor” (John Ogden) whose image beams out at us from an upstage monitor.

You don’t have to have undergone this trauma yourself for the play, done right, to be gut-wrenching to watch. Adding to the emotional punch is the playwright’s skill in portraying the subtle currents of power that flow between predator and prey. For all her youth and vulnerability, Li’l Bit is aware of her ability to manipulate, utilizing it, to her credit, as an enticement to help her uncle, an alcoholic, stop drinking. And utilizing it at other times, well, just for the heck of it.

Sadly, absolutely none of this artfulness comes through in this production presented by Collaborative Artists Ensemble.Under Steve Jarrard’s direction. Wallace’s one-note rendering, replete with coy body language, turns Li’l Bit into a whiny victim that’s as challenging to watch as it is a disservice to nuances Vogel has so carefully sculpted into her play. A trio of supporting actors — Jael Saran, Cathy Bell Denton and Sophia Gonzalez — alternate in a variety of supporting roles; lacking versatility, all are in over their heads. The production’s sole strength is Wray’s understated performance as the slithery but tormented Uncle Peck. When he tells Li’l Bit he’s prepared to be patient, we sense the chasm of emotions churning beneath his polished restrained exterior. It’s a layered performance, never overplayed and nicely done.

The production’s venue, the Sherry Theatre, features a tiny proscenium and limited lighting equipment so tech enhancement is restricted. Still, a scene in a restaurant where, plied with martinis, Li’l Bit becomes dangerously inebriated, is staged so the actress’s face is obscured most of the time (from where I was sitting), while some of the play’s more dramatic scenes feel misplaced upstage, dampening their impact.

Note : Roles played by Jael Saran and Sophia Gonzalez are double-cast.

The Sherry Theater, 11052 Magnolia Blvd., N. Hollywood. Fri.-Sat., 8 pm, Sun., 7 pm; thru March 19. https://howilearnedtodrive.brownpapertickets.com/?utm_source=BWW2022&utm_source=BWW2022&utm_medium=referral&utm_campaign=article&utm_content=bottombuybutton1 Running time: One hour and 40 minutes with no intermission.