Playwright Adam Rapp wastes no time in revealing the premise of his latest play, Nocturne. The first scene begins with a young man, unconvincingly attempting to mask guilt with big words. After a few moments of dense poetic narrative, he announces matter-of-factly, "Fifteen years ago, I killed my sister."
This prosaic, unadorned statement is the impetus behind The American Repertory Theatre (A.R.T)'s production of Nocturne. From this statement evolves the heart-wrenching story of a young man, known to the audience only as "The Son," coping with the accidental death of his sister. The audience is witness to the guilt and anguish that ensues, and together with the narrator, learns that through the greatest pain and passage of time come eventual forgiveness and redemption.
Nocturne's theme of atonement through suffering is not in and of itself entirely new, nor is it particularly complex. What sets this play apart from the rest is the poetic sincerity, courtesy of Rapp. Having worked extensively in New York with theater organizations such as The Public Theater and Julliard, Nocturne marks his first theatrical endeavor in Boston. And what a refreshing addition to Boston's theater scene he is! The depth and intensity of the play is human in comparison to the pretentious over-dramatization of which other productions around town have become victims. The play achieves thought-provoking realism while avoiding ostentatious melodrama.
Dallas Roberts, as "The Son" and narrator of the play, contributes to the dramatic success and impact of Rapp's work. A graduate of the Julliard School, he masterfully handles the emotional complexity of his character without losing the audience. He weaves adeptly through Rapp's extensive similes and descriptive narratives, all the while keeping a firm hold on the character's humility.
Theater veteran Will LeBow is equally expressive and endearing, as "The Father." He conveys the intensity of his anger immediately following the accident without saying a word - his facial expressions do all the talking. When the narrator returns to his father following his 15-year absence, he evokes sympathy and tenderness, again more through gestures than with words.
The narrator's vulnerability, which Roberts conveys with striking precision, is heightened by the blood-red set design of A.R.T. veteran Christine Jones. The scenery is, on the whole, simple and geometric, allowing the audience to concentrate on the dense, profound dialogue of the play. Together with A.R.T. Resident Lighting Designer John Ambrose, the setting succeeds in accentuating the mood and themes of Nocturne by using the plot and Rapp's narrative as the framework.
There is, however, a scene in which Roberts appears to be defying gratify. He speaks suspended in a melange of souvenirs acquired in New York City, where the narrator has gone to escape his "blonde house," the unraveling of his family and the memory of the accident. While the scene is aesthetically curious and undoubtedly impressive, it diverts the attention of the audience away from Roberts' monologue.
Transitions between scenes are awkward and unnecessarily drawn out in an already lengthy production, and are often unbefitting - one wonders what the significance of 30-second interludes of rock/techno music are, as well as to what "Swinging on a Star" has to do with grief and guilt.
The play, however, maintains a surprising continuity under the direction of A.R.T. Associate Director Marcus Stern. Technically, the play is flawless. The actors are well-rehearsed - even Marin Ireland, who plays "The Red Headed Girl," delivers a flawless performance despite her lack of lines. It is a little long given the intensity of subtext, the waterfall of emotion, and substantial language. And yet, thanks to a fabulous company of actors and an adept and capable director, the play manages to avert the typical downfalls that can occur (among them boring the audience).
Despite the sensation of nearly imperceptible exhaustion upon leaving the Hasty Pudding Theatre, Nocturne is undeniably a breath of fresh air. The staging is flawless, the acting is poignant, and, most importantly, the writing is passionate and phenomenal. This play is more than worth a quick trip to Cambridge, if not for its artistic genius, at least for the simple reason that it makes you think.
