In the wake of nooses and blasphemous writings on the wall, Liz Flahive’s newest show, From Up Here, resonates with a sense of urgency. Playing at the Manhattan Theatre Club, the story deals expertly with contemporary issues, hitting a viable nerve in our 21st century mentality.
What results is a show that is brilliantly performed by a team of actors, led by red-headed firecracker and 2007 Tony Award winner Julie White. But while Flahive’s script gives the cast ample room for expression, it stops short of giving any sort of satisfying closure.
The story opens with a modern day family: Grace (White) is recently re-married to her second husband, Daniel (Brian Hutchinson). Settling into her new life isn’t made any easier by her two troubled teens, Lauren (Aya Cash) and Kenny (Tobias Segal). Both kids have a chip on their shoulder, though one’s chip is a little larger than the other’s. Kenny did something that cannot be erased from his permanent record, and while he wants to make the best of his senior year, everywhere he turns there are painful reminders of his actions.
It’s been over a year since the Virginia Tech massacre, but the wounds seem to lay raw and open in From Up Here, which explores the theme of school violence from a new perspective. And though this show certainly pushes past comfort zones, it stresses understanding in place of blamestorming. Known for her fast-paced comedic delivery in The Little Dog That Laughed, White brings her “A” game to the table once more in From Up Here. Seamlessly blending frazzled humor with the heart-wrenching sentiments of a mother trying to put her family back together, her speech at the police station is award-worthy.
Like mother, like daughter—Cash’s speech is just as captivating, if not more so. At once snappish teen and crusading sister, Cash does an excellent job of building her character into a developed whole. In keeping his eyes glued to his hands or the floor, Tobias masterfully locks into the mannerisms of the anxious Kenny—so convincingly so, in fact, that you almost get jittery just watching him shuffle across the stage.
Disappointingly, Kate (Jenni Barber) and Charlie (Will Rogers)—both members of the supporting cast—are more caricatures than characters. Barber plays a 4.0, adolescent over-achiever, while Rogers is a gangly, love-sick teen with his eyes set on Lauren. Both are adequate in their respective roles, but portrayals that were less over the top may have proved more engaging.
Allen Moyer’s naturalist scenic design is beautifully crafted, and Director Leigh Silverman’s staging only heightens its appeal. The unordinary lengthiness of the stage is minimized, as sliding panels are used to quarter off the action into digestible spaces. Moyer’s strength is often in the details. The Party City palm tree plastered on the fold-away lunch table serves as an instant flashback to high school cafeteria Homecomings with their reliably tacky decorations. Moyer also successfully manages to juxtapose a clean and convincing suburban kitchen with a minimalist backdrop for Caroline, Grace’s soul-searching, rugged younger sister.
Played by Arija Bareikis, Caroline is a necessary outside force for the family. Kenny is best able to relate to her nomadic ways, feeling, more than ever, that he was never meant to live in a two-story colonial with a new dad and a fish for a friend. But with the introduction of Caroline, Flahive opens too many doors—past and present—and doesn’t exactly know where to turn. Caroline’s reasons for leaving suburban life are hazy at best, and she returns home at an almost too-convenient time. She tries to get Kenny to discuss the motives behind doing what he did, but after waiting the better part of the play, this conversation comes off as more of a disappointment than a clarification.
Flahive has great potential with From Up Here—she has constructed a timely and engaging story that is bolstered by a fabulous cast. Unfortunately, though, in the play’s aftermath, the shell shock remains without any real impetus or resolution.