Publicity and media about Lungs would have you believe it’s about how bringing a baby into this world has a profound effect on climate and political situations, even terrorism. These, though, are considerations raised basically in a conflict between M and W (a man and woman, get it?) over whether or not they should become parents--and, it turns out, eventually a family.
As the drama opens it’s obvious M (amiable Brendan Regan) has brought up the subject and stunned W (Katie Cunningham, on edge throughout) in what he’s hoped will start “a conversation” about it. From then on the 30-somethings plunge into mostly cons (regarding the abovementioned effects) and some pros (they’re “good people” and they’re getting older). The dialectic continues over time and places, with W mostly on the offensive because she’d be the one having body changes, disruption from work on her Ph.D., and pain. Also is it possible M’s more lustful than really loving? She might feel better if they’d get married, but W thinks that’s forced by convention, not needed if they’re committed to love. Would you believe their parents, who seem to have had very little influence on their relationship, now also figure into their thinking? Finally they try, and M begins having doubtful sleeplessness about his own potential parenting. When the pregnancy is unsuccessful, arguments begin again about a second attempt. W gets less communicative. They break up but meet once again and that leads to another meeting months forward, when they’re both on another track, and . . . well, after a crisis comes a denouement that leads to more than further conversation. What makes all the bickering bearable is that Regan and Cunningham wring the most out of author Duncan Macmillan’s best writing and even his banal plotting. Regan’s facial changes alone, like her breathless bits of rationale early on, make her character real. Director Seth Graham wisely does not let them rely on just bodily movement. He also wisely engaged Rick Cannon, whose lighting effects changes in time, seasons, and places that author Macmillan did not specify (though most seem to be indicated in the script). Would that the set would have changed from a background of a bare tree (a scenic metaphor but static), which works in the wintry beginning but not in such scenes as a picnic in a warm park or a birthing or bedroom. Another unnecessary addition: A substantial narrative before the end that takes you all the way to M’s much later death and W’s reaction.
Writers of plays and even of movies these days can’t seem to stop telling what happened after the end of their dramas. Do you remember when, if the story was interesting enough, it led to a sequel? Would Lungs raise that kind of interest?
