[Sic]
Five years ago, at the tender age of three, Roadworks put on the Chicago premiere of Eric Bogosian’s SubUrbia. Just securing the rights was something of a coup, and the production was sold out for much of its four-month run at the Theatre Building. In recent years Roadworks has followed up on that success with a series of high-profile offerings, including a 1996 staging of filmmaker Mike Leigh’s Ecstasy that went on to a six-month run in Los Angeles.
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The characters in Roadworks’ latest production, the world premiere of Melissa James Gibson’s deeply ironic [Sic], recall the aimless, emotionally conflicted slackers of SubUrbia. Gibson’s characters in this meditative quasi comedy are terminally frustrated and endlessly frustrating, three failed professionals in their 30s who’ve been friends for years and live next door to one another. Self-styled composer Theo, neurotic book editor Babette, and would-be auctioneer Frank ignore all the big issues to debate the fine points of ordering Chinese and the desirability of having one’s head frozen after death.
Far more disorienting is the way the characters’ interactions take shape: the three don’t so much communicate as miscommunicate. For a group of next-door neighbors who spend nearly every waking moment together, they seem to know precious little about one another. They’ve apparently gleaned small bits of information from the gossip of Frank’s ex-lover Larry and Mrs. Jorgensen, the decrepit old woman in 3N who may or may not have died. But rather than articulate their feelings or have any kind of meaningful conversation, these three just awkwardly occupy the same space. They seem ripe for an episode of Seinfeld–but a 90-minute play with such characters is a considerably more frustrating experience for the audience. By denying our expectations of theater and writing a play about nothing, Gibson brings those expectations to light. At the same time, the erratic, unpredictable elements of her play do work as a whole, however obliquely they come together.
Art accompanying story in printed newspaper (not available in this archive): photo/Sara Levinson.
