The Porch

Before The Porch begins, we see the eponymous set, designed by Tamar Gadish, that gives Kari Floren’s play its title. Its expansive wooden form is worn by time and weathered by the elements. On either side of the stage the walls are covered with an impressionistic display of a forest in bright sunlight. This impressive set design beautifully captures the duality of the play we’re about to see, providing a daring combination of heightened reality and lyrical fantasy.

The lyrical tone of Floren’s work is established immediately with the arrival of a young man named Ziad (Javier Munoz), who is so taken with what he sees that he dances across the porch. His movements, choreographed by Broadway’s Nancy Lemenager, are in sync with Roger Murdock’s ethereal yet rhythmic original music — as he touches key objects on the porch and periodically punctuates his dance by tapping wind chimes. He has, quite literally, breezed into the story.

Ziad is the ghostly companion of an established and successful choreographer named Jean (Lauren Mufson). She arrives at Tucker House, a bed and breakfast in the mountains of West Virginia, but the owner Lee (Don Harvey) gruffly announces that the inn is closing and no one can stay. At the urging of Ziad, she tries to convince him to let her check in. She gets nowhere in this battle, until Ramona (Shirley Roeca) storms onto the porch. She’s already wired as tight as a coaxial cable before she’s told her reservation won’t be honored. Hearing the bad news from Lee, she goes as ballistic as an ICBM. Rather than fight her, Lee throws up his hands and gives up, letting the two women stay the night. However, once you discover the conflicts in the piece, there aren’t a lot of places for this story to go.

Fortunately, Roeca is hilariously volcanic. Her anger is so extreme, vituperative and combative, that she’s kickass funny. What makes her performance work so well, however, is that she somehow manages to keep that mean streak rooted in reality. Further, since the play has already established an air of unreality thanks to the ghost character of Ziad, we can more readily buy into her histrionics. Reining her in just enough is Harvey, as the troubled, laconic Lee. The character is something of an everyman, and Harvey, a sophisticated actor, wisely underplays his part. On the downside, Mufson as Jean, the apparent peacemaker between Lee and Ramona, has a poorly written character and can’t make it work. Munoz is no better off, especially since his performance is not only too big for the porch, it’s too big for the theater.

Director Michael Berry, a fine actor in his own right, should have pulled their performances in, but that wouldn’t have solved all of The Porch‘s problems. Their characters are clichés and the plot in which they exist is painfully obvious.