Cruising along the highways of self-discovery

By Nicole Diamond

PATRICK MCGARVEY/YH Li'l Bit (Katie Robbins, SY '02) has questions. Uncle Peck (Ben Vershbow, BR '01) has answers.

Learning to drive is often used as a metaphor for learning to live. At age 16, a young woman or man takes over the road, discovers the feeling of total power and control, and begins to navigate the bumpy path toward adulthood. But in this weekend's production of How I Learned To Drive in the Calhoun Cabaret, playwright Paula Vogel explores much more than the connection between independence and a driver's license, as she relates the tender, troubling tale of Li'l Bit and her Uncle Peck. Told almost entirely in flashbacks, the play follows Li'l Bit from age 11 to 18, jumping from a middle school dance to freshman year at college to her first driving lesson.

Growing up in Maryland in the late '60s, Li'l Bit is a curious young woman, emotionally and intellectually precocious while at the same time wildly innocent of the world--constantly seeking love, guidance, appreciation, and answers. But it is her relationship with her Uncle Peck which lies at the heart of this disturbing play; his sometimes passionate, sometimes pathetic reaching out to her drives the story. Peck is a war veteran--a sad, troubled man whose kindness and love for his niece take a twisted turn as she grows older. In part, the two understand one another as no one else can; Li'l Bit is the only one who can convince Peck to quit drinking, while Peck teaches her to appreciate her intellect, supporting her decision to go to college when others are skeptical. But there is something dark and menacing to the relationship too, something furtive, painful, and finally destructive for both of them.

As Li'l Bit, Katie Robbins, SY '02, gives an adept and convincing performance. She is best at the moments when Li'l Bit is about sixteen, and for the most part makes transitions between ages and places gracefully. Ben Vershbow, BR '01, is perfect as Peck, making him both empathetic and despicable, sometimes at the same time. It would have been easy to make Peck the absolute enemy, but Vershbow's portrayal is too smart and too subtle to fall into such a trap. The other three characters, who play a variety of parts throughout the play, are uniformly solid. Particularly noteworthy is Marli Guzzetta, TD '01, as Li'l Bit's mother, giving perhaps the funniest monologue of the play regarding drinking etiquette: "Avoid anything with sugar or an umbrella."

The production starts out strong, introducing the characters and setting the scene, and continues to develop. The final scenes are particularly powerful in their painful vividness. But the production falters about two-thirds of the way through, when the momentum slows and we begin wondering where exactly we are headed. The flashbacks to Li'l Bit's middle school years are awkward in their presentation. Some scenes feel particularly long, like the scene involving a photo shoot that drags on for minutes longer than necessary.

That said, the play is saved by the strength of its actors, the fundamental power of its story, and the professional quality of its technical staff. A slide projector displays a series of photographs on the back screen throughout the performance, and the projection and sound effects are weaved flawlessly into the narrative. There is not a single botched cue, fuzzy slide, or awkward transition--a first for Yale undergraduate theater in my experience. The set, a group of wooden black boxes outfitted with automobile headlights, allows the production to make effective and unique use of lighting, and for the most part, although there is never a complete blackout, the set changes work smoothly. The costumes are an ideal complement to both set and plot. The three chorus characters are dressed in black mechanic's uniforms, aiding their flexibility as an ensemble and simultaneously setting off the vivid whiteness of Li'l Bit's shirt.

How I Learned To Drive starts with the sentence, "Sometimes to tell a secret you first have to teach a lesson." As the play goes on and Li'l Bit is taught one lesson after another, we watch as her secrets are revealed as well. Ultimately, the girl turned woman is no closer to being healed. In fact, the wounds of her past have become more apparent, more angry under the hot lights of the Calhoun Cabaret. The road still looms ahead, waiting to be conquered.

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