The playwright Craig Lucas is no stranger to philosophical
exploration. His plays have always examined deeply human
questions about identity (*Reckless*), loss (*Blue Window*),
and love (*Prelude to a Kiss*). But he’s usually been sneaky
and seductive about it, writing plays whose cheerful comic
veneer masked many layers of psychological insight and social
commentary. You’re surprised at the end that so many tender
parts of your heart have been touched because there were so
many laughs along the way. This was true even of his
screenplay for the landmark AIDS film *Longtime Companion*,
directed by Norman Rene, who collaborated with Lucas on all of
his plays and films until his untimely death in 1995.
In recent years, Lucas’s
writing has taken a darker turn, as if the playwright could no
longer pretend not to be devastated by the losses of lovers
and friends to AIDS. (His 1995 column for the Advocate
entitled “Postcard from Grief” stands as one of the most
powerful expressions of that devastation in our literature.)
How love survives after death was the subject of both *God’s
Heart* and *The Dying Gaul*, with the latter play delving
honestly into the rage that inevitably accompanies deep
grieving.
*Stranger* picks up where
*The Dying Gaul* left off. The question it asks is this: when
you’ve suffered inexplicable cruelty, how do you continue to
live without being consumed by bitterness and a desire for
revenge? Ever the nimble theater artist, Lucas embeds this
inquiry into a deceptively simple plot. Hush (David Strathairn)
and Linda (Kyra Sedgwick), who meet by chance on a plane,
confess to each other the heinous crimes they have committed.
In the course of the play, however, we learn that this was not
a chance meeting, and these two are not exactly strangers.
Mark Brokaw’s production at
the Vineyard Theater works best at suggesting the symbolic
drama being enacted between these two people, who on some deep
level are the same person: yin and yang, God and Satan.
Unfortunately, the actors are unable to manage the tricky task
of inhabiting both the literal and symbolic levels, so the
production stays on the level of earthbound melodrama. Which
is a shame, because Lucas’s play makes some provocative
points about how the person who clings to the identity of
victim inevitably becomes perpetrator. *Strangers*’s
haunting final image captures the all-too-human tendency to
stay locked up in a psychological prison because, hey, it
feels like home.
The Advocate, November 21,
2000
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