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Airline Highway
by Russell Bouthiller Set in the Big Easy, the Manhattan Theater Club production of Lisa DAmour’s comedy, Airline Highway, tackles a Grand Hotel plot and sets it at a less-than-grand motel. Directed by the prolific Tony Award winner, Joe Montello tackles this dark comedy, which is set in New Orleans and comes to New York via Chicago after its world premier at the Steppenwolf Theatre. Airline Highway captures the desolation of the underclass or “subculture,” as one of the many characters in Miss D’Amours’ play describes it; there are 16 players in all. Colored with a tarnished rainbow of mostly lower caste types—including a stripper, a prostitute, a drag queen and various manner of hustlers and dealers—the play offers bruised souls who coalesce into one large dysfunctional family, which is not necessarily happy.
Still, this is New Orleans, and for anyone who knows grits about that city, anything goes as a reason for a party. In this case, it’s a funeral for a guest of honor who isn’t quite dead yet. It’s a unique town and this is a singular cause for celebration, but for New Orleans… well, it doesn’t have to make sense. It just has to be well stocked with liquor and chips. And, that’s what makes New Orleans the ideal location for D’Amours play. Set in the parking lot outside the Hummingbird Motel, a spectacular neon sign from yesteryear looms over Scott Pask’s fittingly dingy set designs. The fluorescent-lit office, broken down car and two-tiered motel walkway establishes that we are at a place that has seen better days. Not surprisingly, we learn that the local brand of despair is doled out equally to young and old. But, it’s those who have populated this underclass the longest that suffer an irreparable urban blight. The large cast is decisively directed by Montello and headed by Broadway favorite, Julie White, who won a Tony Award for her leading performance in Douglas Carter Beane’s The Little Dog Laughed. She plays Tanya, an aging prostitute with a yen for painkillers, which help to dull the throbbing memories of the three children she brought into this world and subsequently gave up. She’s the chief planner of this event for the soon-to-be dearly departed. White has earned a Tony nomination for her leading role portrayal. Also nominated in the acting category is K. Todd Freeman who earned a featured role nod for his performance as Sissy Na Na, drag queen in residence who helps plan the party and offers an occasionally uplifting word for the downtrodden. Freeman’s performance is over the top, but so are most New Orleans drag queens. He certainly brightens the stage at the Samuel J. Friedman Theatre. Other principal characters include Wayne, the motel manager with a heart, nicely rendered by Scott Jaeck. Tim Edward Rhoze as Terry, the recovering addict handyman on premises. Caroline Neff is excellent as the young and broken stripper, Krista, who still carries a torch for Bait Boy, filled out fully by Joe Trippett. He ran off with a woman of means some time ago and has returned to send off his beloved Miss Ruby, brought to live by a salty Judith Roberts.
Bait Boy brings along his new lady friend’s adolescent daughter, Zoe, ably illustrated by Carolyn Braver. Zoe hopes to interviews these creatures of the night for academic purposes. When Tanya asks “What do you see, when you look at me?” Zoe answers, “A woman… who has seen a lot of things and come to terms with them.”
D’Amour creates a textured weave of personalities who can often see the brighter side of their dim lives while never forgetting they are part of that underworld Zoe aims to exploit. Though their circumstances are pitiable and captivating, collectively the emotional impact of the play is a tiny bit lacking. These people care don’t enough about themselves for the audience to make that supremely empathetic connection. They are fascinating to examine, as Zoe well knows. But, they come off more as studies in dejection mouthing authorial philosophy and not characters we embrace without (or in spite of) judgments. Consequently, this intense work is missing that vital punch in the gut. Airline Highway is a compelling road with an occasional pothole. The Samuel J. Friedman Theatre 
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