Melancholy, yet brilliant, bird of 'Youth'

I have fallen asleep during many plays. I conked out during a production of Chicago; I napped through almost a third of Kelsey Grammer's Macbeth. Granted, I was tired, but these plays were just plain boring. And, seated in a big theater, I could hardly even see the stage or the actors. There was no reason to stay awake—why not just lean back and close my eyes...

REBECCA ROSENTHAL/YH So, how 'bout those ruined lives of ours?

But there is nothing sleep-inducing about This Is Our Youth. The innovative set design pulls the viewer into the action: set in a corner of the Morse Common Room, the stage (if the word even applies) is surrounded by pillows, divans, and couches on which the audience sits. You watch as if you are in the West Side apartment where the play is set; the actors' presence is amazingly real because the viewer can actually see and hear them. The play makes great use of the space, which is filled with nice touches—a New York license plate, personal photos, posters, old newspapers, a game of Connect Four, a basketball, assorted kitsch—a mess. The lighting seems a little too bright, though, and the intermission and beginning of the second act are a little strange and confusing because of the open set. Nevertheless, director Billy Schraufnagel, DC '03, generally deals well with the sound, despite the lack of any formal theater system.

This Is Our Youth, written by Kenny Lonergan, is set in 1982 and describes the lives of three college-aged kids living in New York City. The play begins as Warren (Graham Norris, MC '03), running away from home after fighting with his abusive father, arrives at his friend Dennis' (Jeff Miller, MC '03) doorstep with $15,000 stolen from his father and a suitcase of emotionally and monetarily valuable childhood memorabilia. Dennis, whose parents rent the apartment for him, is a part-time bike messenger who deals drugs to his friends and acquaintances among New York's affluent youth. Later, Jessica (Jessica Leventhal, BR '03), a long-time crush of Warren's, shows up, and the two of them develop an odd, spur-of-the-moment relationship. Lonergan's play is based on events in his own life, and the script's gritty realism demonstrates its truth.

True to life, there is a lot of swearing. The actors inject lots of ums and likes into their dialogue. The mood on stage swings from silly to pretentious to serious to angry to deeply melancholy, and the conversations include a great deal of self-righteous psycho-babble—just what one would expect from well-to-do 19-year-old New Yorkers. Lonergan's characters are developed fully and beautifully: over the course of the play the viewer comes to appreciate Dennis' inability to take responsibility for his life and actions, Warren's awkward loneliness and naïvete, and Jessica's deep personal confusion. The script itself presents real, insecure characters in pain as they are forced to leave their youth, but the acting makes this play shine.

Miller, Norris, and Leventhal do a fantastic job connecting on stage. Certain moments become a little weak when the actors seem slightly off-target in their facial expressions or tones, but for the most part, the acting is intensely believable and engaging. Awkward silences make for some of the most impressive scenes: the actors' movements and appearances create tangible tension out of the silence. The fights and arguments are also particularly well done, with characters interrupting and yelling and gesturing. Though This Is Our Youth deals with characters who can be very self-centered and pretentious, the acting conveys such characters without itself seeming self-centered and pretentious. Miller and Norris pull off a few very difficult phone conversations, bringing the imaginary callers to life along with their own characters.

Theater

This Is Our Youth By Kenny Lonergan Directed by Billy Schraufnagel Fri., Dec. 1 at 7 and 10 p.m., Sat., Dec. 2, at 3, 7 and 10 p.m., Sun., Dec. 3 at 3 p.m. Morse Common Room $2

The true test of a performance, though, is the response of the audience. I, for one, was gripped. During the second half, I felt a frustrated urge to shout at the boys on stage, to tell them how stupid they were acting. My reactions became visceral as the acting evolved into a sort of reality. The play's climax, as the threads of Warren's youth totally unravel, is riveting and emotionally draining. Each character deals with his own pain and trauma, and none of them seem to listen to the other, yet the audience is subjected to it all. As the play ends with Warren's resigned "I guess I'll just go home," applause hardly seems the right conclusion for this compelling, depressing performance. I was almost sad to see the actors bow, because for a couple hours, they aren't actors, but instead are Dennis, Warren, and Jessica. The actors walk away unscathed from This Is Our Youth; it's the audience that is left heartbroken.

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