Later, as act one builds again (everyone is back online) the tension mounts. This is largely due to the fact that Espey has wisely chosen not to make this into a modern, trite After School Special – he could have gone into internet predators, pornography, internet scams and the like. In fact, every time it seems he may be going there, he goes somewhere else – using technology as a nanny, using technology as a personal CSI agent, using technology as a marital aid. Brilliant, highly effective, and alarming.
Which brings us to another magnificent climax, and pretty darned clever way of introducing an intermission – which I will not reveal here. Without ever really stating a position, it is clear that the play and its writer have a point of view, but without hitting us over the head with it, he allows us to see the pros and cons and to feel like we are deciding on our own how we feel about these issues. All of this – the script and the staging – has also led me to another surprising point given the technical nature of the ideas: Hope's Arbor is a terrific play, and would be much less effective in, say, a movie format. Not being able to see the screens or see the technology at work forces us to see the users, and therefore, forces us to look at the people, not their toys.
Technically, the show is also masterful. Settings (designed by Fuzz Roark) and lighting (by Galen Lande) combine to add visually to the themes and theatricality of the piece. And the phone ringing/email alert signals/etc. are perfectly timed – in lesser hands it would be a nightmare. But it is the acting that really makes the piece thrive.
There is not a weak member of this 6-actor ensemble, which in the above mentioned scenes move as one like a well-oiled machine. No small fete considering the density of language and hair-trigger timing the work requires. And separately, each cast member makes a significant contribution. In the smallest of the roles, Dina Epshteyn is appropriately harsh and self-absorbed as a classmate of Hope's. Her motto: JOX ROCK!!!, which I think that says it all for the character. In another small, but pivotal role, Madonna Refugia scores as Saiko, a Japanese student at a rival school who finds an unusual friendship with Hope, speaking to her only in Haiku. Refugia delivers one of the most beautiful of the play's passages, a tale of her growing up as a subtle metaphor for child abuse. As the third of Hope's "friends" is Eric Berryman as Chris Reed, whose mantra, " What the world sees of me is what I choose to show the world" brings home another amazingly well-put point by Espey – Hope has friends, but none are "real" – they are online friends (is that what we now believe is a relationship?). As Hope's parents, Mark Scharf and Alison Buckley do some excellent work, peeling back layers of deeply written characters. Scharf gets to play what has become increasingly rare these days, a sympathic, empathetic straight man, who hides a secret by hiding behind technology – his character is a master at multi-phone lines and word processing. And Buckley mines new gold out of a mother who sacrifices everything and lives her life through her daughter; and like her husband, she hides a secret behind her pushing and manipulating of those around her to achieve an unachievable level of status. It is no wonder that Hope seeks friendship and refuge from another character whose motto is "If everyone in the world became friends with one lonely person, no one would be lonely." Courtney Krimmel is a revelation as the titular Hope, giving one of the most unflinchingly realistic portrayals of a teenager I've ever seen . She is, quite simply, an excellent actress, and I look forward to seeing her again on the Baltimore stage. As written, Hope is an overweight, underachieving oddball, and while it is clear that the lovely Miss Krimmel is none of those in life, she makes one ache with sympathy for what her character is going through, and not all of it is your typical coming of age stuff. Her Hope must also shed the burden of a techno-crazy society to find truth in an increasingly out of reach reality – a burden we must all shed.
PHOTO by Amy Jones: BACK: Dina Epshteyn, Eric Berryman, Mark Scharf, Alison Buckley FRONT: Madonna Refugia, Courtney Krimmell
