The Empty Nesters
Garret Jon Groenveld
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JW Walker & Pamela Gaye Walker |
She: “We’re going to have to start to have grown-up
conversations.”
He: “About what?”
She: “Grown up things.”
He: “About what?”
She: “Grown up things.”
He: “Then let’s talk.”
She: “About what.”
He: “I don’t know.”
Such back-and-forth, circle exchanges often make the
interactions of wife Frannie and husband Greg sound like scenes from a marital
version of Sartre’s No Exit. Having just dropped off their younger
daughter at college, they now are facing a lifetime of just themselves; and the
prospects are not looking all that good at first glance, especially when
Frannie turns to Greg while waiting in a Grand Canyon tourist line and mentions
matter-of-factly, “I’m thinking about leaving you” (setting off other circular
spins on the difference between “thinking about” and “wanting to”).
Flown Coop Productions presents The Empty Nesters by San
Francisco playwright Garret Jon Groenveld in the intimate setting of Z
Below. Featuring the
married-in-real-life, veteran-acting team of Pamela Gaye Walker and JW Walker
(over forty times in plays together but not in twenty years and parents of
now-grown kids), the seventy-five minute play often feels like the real-time, back-and-forth
exchanges that many married couples might have in a similar situation. One gets the feeling, in fact, that these
very two people may be reenacting some past moments of their own long-together,
married lives, so natural they flow in bickering repartee, pressing each
other’s well-known hot buttons along the way.
It is the audience’s familiarity from their own experiences of
what is said (and not said) between this husband and wife that leads to much
laughter when simple-enough phrases are repeated over and again:
• “Did you lock
the car?”
• “This
line is long ... Why are we doing this?”
• “Why
didn’t you get the barbeque sauce like I asked?”
• “You
should have seen that if I said I am doing ‘great,’ I was not really doing
‘great’.”
Subjects like how much he spends
time watching TV sports (“You have spent entire Sundays watching other people
play cards”) or how she is bringing up once again that they should really see a
marriage counselor (to which he says, “I’m pretty sure I’m bad at the things
this therapist thinks are good”) are perhaps why I noticed some poking in the ribs
or exchange of sheepish smirks occurring between audience couples.
Many of the interchanges follow
traditional sex roles that perhaps still fit Boomer age parents but may seem a
bit dated for younger audience members (like how he shows up in boxer shorts
ready to jump in bed for a romp, only to find her curled up ready only for a
nap). But overall, these are the very
things couples have repeatedly said and done for a long time ... and still say
and do. George and Frannie are just
rewinding our own old tapes and forcing us to listen to how we might sound at
times when life becomes just a bit too routine and partners become close to
expendable without our realizing it.
Much of the tension and the
sudden raising of relationship questions emerges from Frannie’s realization, “I’m
still a mother but no one left to mother.”
George has moved on (or so he claims) to a house free of kid drama. Frannie is stuck staring with teary eyes at a
cell phone that is not ringing from a daughter that is not calling. (“I know where she is ... She is not where
she should be ... She’s not here.”)
Together, we watch as they struggle whether or not to recognize and care
how the other is dealing with the new reality that now it is just the two of
them again.
The Walkers are so good at
portraying Greg and Frannie that it is easy to forget that they are actually
acting. The exchanges are never that
far-flung from realities we recognize, delivered and conveyed in ways that rarely
feel scripted or directed. Much of that
credit must also go to Richard Seyd who has directed a seamless flow and
movement through their afternoon at the Canyon, in a café, and back at the
hotel. Kim Rooker’s backdrop projections
help set the scenes in creative ways.
What is missing, however, is
that the energy and excitement of the exchanges begins to dwindle as the short
play progresses. Every thing is so
familiar that not much is added about the subject of the play’s title. I felt as if I had already experienced myself
or read in some magazine most of what George and Frannie are going through as a
couple now left alone with no kids around.
I did not walk away with any new insights, and I came close to being
bored with it all by the end, even though I admired the efforts and excellence
of the production itself. I think where
things start to go a bit flat is in Mr. Groenveld’s script itself.
Having said that, not a lot of
time must be invested in seeing The Empty
Nesters, and seeing this husband-wife couple reunited on stage is a special
treat. Flown the Coop Productions
provides a chance for some mirror looking by us all and a chance to chuckle at
ourselves as well as at Greg and Frannie.
Rating: 3 E
The Empty Nesters continues through June 11, 2016 as a Flown the
Coop Production, staged at Z Below, 470 Florida Street, San Francisco. Tickets are available online at www.emptynestersplay.com or by
calling 866-811-4111.
Photos by David Allen
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