Even after curtain, ‘Gibson Girl’ keeps you guessing
Victoria Cheng
There is a moment just before “The Gibson Girl” breaks for intermission
when the play’s intricate pieces click into place, and you can just
feel the audience get it as things gel.
Piece by piece: Teenage twin sisters Valerie and Win have been arguing
in a school bathroom stall. Their mother Ruth has been consulting a
psychic who warns of a coming barrage of tap dancing shoes. Ruth’s
sister, Thelma, is pursuing a younger man through a series of thrift
store encounters. The younger man’s own sister, Nia, has just installed
her seventh smoke detector in her apartment. And somehow, the twins’
father and Nia’s next-door neighbor share a theoretical admiration for
blackness as both physical and cultural concepts.
It’s a lot of action for a space the size of the Plaza Theatre at the
Boston Center for the Arts. But an ingenious stage design clearly
delineates a postage stamp-sized area for each location: a swinging
stall door for the bathroom, a dimly lit psychic’s table, and a
cross-section of two apartment entryways, with a wall separating Nia
from her neighbor.
Playwright Kirsten Greenidge notes that the play, making its Boston
debut in a production by local group Company One, is ultimately about
family — what constitutes a family and how to repair one if it falls
short of idealistic expectations. Consequently, the action focuses on
the twins, their mother and her quest to bring their father home so
that they will “be a family” again.
Not afraid to capitalize on the cutting generational commentary of
which all teenagers are capable, Greenidge gives Valerie and Win an
exchange that questions the value of the hunt for a good man.
“If Mom wants a man, she should just read Cosmo like everyone else,”
says Company One newcomer Brittany Lang, a simultaneously innocent and
savvy Win.
“Mom wants a black man,” replies her exasperated sister Valerie, played
by fellow Company One first-timer Nyla Wissa. “Cosmo doesn’t tell you
how to get black people. She should read Essence or Ebony.”
A strong cast of characters underpins Greenidge’s play, hovering at the
periphery of the plot and biding their time until it becomes apparent
that they all play crucial parts in Ruth’s rapidly unraveling past.
Like Lang and Wissa, many “Gibson Girl” cast members are also making
their first Company One appearance, and their diverse backgrounds add
complexity to the nuances of the play.
Michelle Dowd, a banker by day, brings an executive mien to her turn as
Ruth, the twins’ perfectionist mother. As the
agora-and-everything-else-phobic Nia, Valencia Hughes-Imani reaches out
to her emotionally troubled neighbor with a forthright patience that
calls to mind the imperturbability of an experienced schoolteacher —
which, as a teacher in the Boston Public Schools, she is.
Greenidge, who says that she tends to “write characters that are very
quirky and a little bit hard to understand,” adds that key rewrites for
the Company One production involved making sure “the characters were
recognizable and identifiable in a way that we could see some sort of
humanity in them, even if they are crazy and whacked out, which they
are.”
This empathy for the play’s characters rises rapidly to the surface in
the moments before intermission, as incomprehensible quirks evolve into
endearing traits. The transformation is most apparent in Thelma, Ruth’s
loud and eccentric sister, played in a tour-de-force performance by
Valerie Stephens.
The veteran actor returns to the Boston stage with gusto, investing
Thelma not only with plenty of bravado, but also a dash of tender care
for both her nieces and for the thrift-store-shopping young man that
she repeatedly meets.
It is appropriate that the pieces of “The Gibson Girl” begin to come
together as they gather momentum for the second half: The mystery
Greenidge has created must eventually be resolved, after all.
Indeed, it concludes in thrilling yet poignant fashion, as the
conventional notion of family runs smack into ideas about race and
gender, a collision that produces neatly spectacular results.
But part of the sentiment that lingers after the curtain call is still
a sense of the mystery and stupefaction cultivated by the play’s
earlier moments, when the pieces didn’t yet fit. This, however, is
arguably the strongest effect of “The Gibson Girl” — reminding the
audience that the best thing about family is that it doesn’t always
make sense.
“The Gibson Girl” runs through April 5 at the Plaza Theatre at Boston
Center for the Arts, 539 Tremont Street, Boston. Tickets range from
$15-$30.
For show times and tickets, call 617-933-8600, visit www.bostontheatrescene.com,
or purchase them in person at the Calderwood Pavilion at the Boston
Center for the Arts, 527 Tremont Street, or the Boston University
Theatre Box Office, 264 Huntington Avenue.
For more information, visit Company One’s Web site at www.companyone.org.