Katy Sullivan and Victor Williams

 

 

 

                                by Deirdre Donovan

 

Martyna Majok’s Cost of Living at New York City Center Stage 1 isn’t light entertainment.  But, as directed by Jo Bonney, this bi-plotted play can be an eye-opener for understanding how persons with physical disabilities cope with life.  Under the aegis of Manhattan Theatre Club, it allows you to get up-close-and-personal with two physically “different” persons and those in their lives who try to help.

 

Gregg Mozgala and Jolly Abraham              photos by Joan Marcus 

 

Forget sentimentality.  When the lights go up for the Prologue, an unemployed truck driver named Eddie is alone at center stage.  He sets the gritty tone of the play with an opening line that has an (unprintable) four-letter word:  “The %#* that happens is not to be understood.” Thoughtfully sipping seltzer from a glass in Mazie’s bar in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, the 49 year-old Eddie gazes out over the footlights and takes the audience into his confidence.  We learn that Christmas is only a week away.  But Eddie’s holiday won’t bear any resemblance to a Norman Rockwell picture.  He’s at a crossroads in his life.  Not only has he lost his trucking license due to a DUI offense, but he’s separated from his wife Ani, who’s been a double-amputee since her accident.  Although not many details are filled in about their marriage, it’s evident that their relationship went sour somewhere along the bumpy marital road. 

 

The play (except for the Prologue) is set in North Jersey over the course of a few months.  And it revolves around more than the story of Eddie and Ani.  In fact, two other characters named John and Jess materialize on stage in a separate plot that ultimately links up with the first one.  

 

Here’s the second plot in a nutshell.  John, in his mid 20’s, has cerebral palsy and lives alone in an accessible apartment in Princeton, where he’s a doctoral student.  Jess, also in her mid 20’s, arrives at his apartment, in hope of getting hired as a caretaker by John.  This would mean she would help with daily routines like washing and dressing him, or as John himself puts it:  “Keep him handsome.”  Yes, Jess is prepared to do whatever it takes to get the job.  And John, though bound to a wheelchair, is bent on testing her at every turn. 

 

Cost of Living is a very different kind of drama.  In fact, the playwright notes in her script that physically disabled persons should be given preference when casting the roles of Jess and Ani.  Fortunately, Bonney follows the author’s bias by casting Jolly Abraham and Gregg Mozgala as Jess and Ani, who are both physically disabled.

 

Some may be embarrassed or feel awkward over the situations that arise in the play.  Indeed there’s no sugar-coating of Abraham and Mozgala’s real physical limitations.  What’s more, the dialogue, especially when the character Jess’ is on stage, can be unsparingly coarse. 

 

Bathing takes on a dramatic element in both plots.  Case in point, Jess must help to maneuver John into his shower seat and wash him, while still allowing John his basic human dignity.  Likewise, Eddie, ends up bathing his estranged wife Ani one day when her nurse doesn’t show up (Eddie is still on record as Ani’s emergency contact person).  Curiously, one sees over the course of the play that it’s not only the two characters with physical limitations who are vulnerable in this play. The two able-bodied individuals often find themselves vulnerable too, if not in a physical, an emotional sense.

 

The acting is spot on.  Victor Williams, playing Eddie, is likable, if a bit rough around the edges.  Katy Sullivan, as Ani, gets across her character’s prickly temperament and intensity.  Gregg Mozgala is well-cast as John, conveying the polished (and sometimes pretentious) Harvard man who is studying for his doctorate at Princeton.  Jolly Abraham inhabits Jess, who’s a first-generation American, with moxie and more.

 

The creative team are in harmony.  Wilson Chin’s turntable set ensures the transitions between scenes are smooth.  Jeff Croiter’s even lighting keeps the quartet of characters squarely in the spotlight.  Jessica Pabst’s costumes are ordinary and functional.  And Robert Kaplowitz’ original music brings mood and atmosphere to the piece.

 

This is the second drama this season that brings the physically disabled before our eyes on a New York stage.   Sam Gold’s The Glass Menagerie cast Madeline Ferris, who has muscular dystrophy, in the role of Laura Wingfield.  Although the production opened to mostly poor reviews, Gold certainly did push the artistic envelope by having Ferris play the part of Laura, conventionally performed by an able-bodied actress.

 

Majok’s new play reminds you that theater is not mere entertainment but should engage the heart, mind, and soul.  Although this production may unsettle some, it’s theater that is undeniably good for you.  After all, why not have the physically-disabled population represented on stage?  It appears to be the newest frontier for playwrights and actors to explore—and isn’t it overdue?

 

Through July 16^th.

At New York City Center at Stage 1, 131 West 55^th Street (between 6^th and 7^th Avenues).

For more information, visit www.nycitycenter.org or phone 212.581.1212. 

Running time:  1 hour; 40 minutes with one intermission.