Kieran Culkin and
Michael Cera
by Joel
Benjamin
I have to admit experiencing a certain
dread at the prospect of seeing the revival of This Is Our Youth,
Kenneth Lonergan’s 1996 work about “alienated” young people. I remembered the
original as a dark, ugly and distressing, the three original actors exuding a
ferocity that made them unappealing, however skillfully they were portrayed.
The current Broadway revival at the Cort Theatre, as directed by Anna D.
Shapiro, is a totally different take on the play. She has found whatever light
and subtlety there is in the writing. The three young people come across as
confused, intelligent, though, it has to be said, still incredibly irritating.
Not nice, but certainly not the monsters I remembered and people whose
self-imposed problems and navel gazing are worth observing.
The play takes place in 1982 in the
Upper West Side studio apartment of Dennis Ziegler whose television viewing is
interrupted by his nervous punching bag of a friend Warren Straub. Warren has
just run away from his father, the “lingerie king,” having stolen fifteen
thousand dollars. He is also carrying a large suitcase full of his toy
collection. What to do with the stolen loot and the toys? They muse
nervously about having a great night out, spending it on drugs or simply
returning the cash with an apology. They settle on a compromise that, in
theory—a faulty theory it turns out—will solve all their problems: buy some
cocaine, use some, sell the rest and come away with a profit. How this plan
goes awry, and the consequences of its failure, fill up the rest of the
two-plus hours of the play.
Tavi Gevinson
Images by Brigitte Lacombe
Complicating matters is Warren’s crush
on teenaged fashion student, Jessica Goldman. He uses way too much of the
purloined cash to fulfill his fantasy of a night at the Plaza Hotel with her, again
leading to angst and youthful recriminations. Jessica is by far the most
together of the trio, speaking her mind, airing her doubts and clearly the one
who will better survive upper middle class anxiety, although Dennis and Warren
are not, by far, lost causes.
The joy of Lonergan’s writing and this
production, in particular, is watching these three lost kids interacting,
listening to how they insult each other—particularly Dennis’ emotional
low-blows at Warren—and realizing that they are playacting their own lives and
are suffering from self-imposed alienation, even as they go on and on about
their parents’ material successes. Despite being nasty to each other, they are
smart and still have remnants of a social conscience.
Kieran Culkin inhabits the seemingly
self-confident Dennis, his frailty barely hidden. He clearly works at his
slick macho façade and cannot hide his innate intelligence. Michael Cera’s
Warren is all gangly fragility, always on the verge of coming apart and needing
Dennis’ constant needling to fire himself up. He speaks in a high-pitched,
staccato manner summarizing Warren’s brittleness. Lovely Tavi Gevinson makes
it clear why Warren lusts after her. She is fragile in appearance but strong
in speech and demeanor, standing up for her feelings in a way that displays a
maturity beyond her years. All three actors were simply terrific.
Todd Rosenthal’s scenic design includes
many witty details, including TV cable wire running up and down the visible
building walls, period electronics—including a turntable!—and the kind of
posters any middle class self appointed dropout would have on his wall. Ann
Roth’s costumes clearly define the characters and the period without looking
like costumes and Brian MacDevitt’s lighting makes the most of the dreary
studio apartment.
One has to wonder how different this
play would be if these characters were equipped all the modern electronic
devices that bog down young adults today. The richness of Lonergan’s
exploration of character and emotion would not exist if they spent their time
tweeting each other. How refreshing it is to see real people communicating in
real time.
This Is Our Youth – through January 4, 2015
Cort Theatre
138 West 48th St. between 6th
& 7th Aves.
New York, NY
Tickets: www.telecharge.com or 212-239-6200
Running time: 2 hours 15 minutes with
one intermission