Sincere but why? That is how I responded to the dramatic form given to a stream of popular inter-active on-line advice columns originally written by Cheryl Strayed, a non-professional known to her network of help-seekers as “Dear Sugar.” Some of these have been adapted from her book for the stage by writer/actress Nia Vardalos (“My Big Fat Greek Wedding”) who stands in for Strayed. As commendably directed by Thomas Kail in this return engagement (presumably by popular demand), the exchanges are all semi-passive, a steady stream of shared and responsive confessionals and queries of a very personal nature. These are the typical quandaries that people find themselves mired in such as romance, sex, death, physical abuse and drugs. The columns had built-in pathos with their notable displays of empathy and expressions of compassion for the troubled souls. Listening to advice, no matter how well-intended or sincerely spoken, does not make great theater. To be fair, the audience at the performance I attended sat attentively while I started to squirm about midway through the seventy-five minutes. Vardalos plays the well-meaning guru with an engaged sincerity (that word again). This, as she busily inhabits the excellently designed living-room, dining room and kitchen area of Dear Sugar’s home as well designed by Rachel Hauck. We not only hear but see the people behind the back-and-forth internet exchanges. These characters are effectively played by Teddy Canez, Hubert Point-du Jour, and Natalie Woolams-Torres. They wander in and about as required and provide what little action the play provides. This device certainly gives some life support to what would otherwise be simply Dear Sugar’s exchanges with her flock/followers. What I found most interesting is how Dear Sugar used her own traumatic life experiences as a springboard for a personal philosophy — a mixture of metaphysics and psychology — as a practical process for healing. This has apparently worked for others as it had worked for herself as a working professional, wife, and mother. The actors make a concerted effort to not sound like they are reading their epistolary-like text, but it doesn’t solve the problem of this being a play without any solidified confrontations. Nevertheless, some very sad stories are revealed and you would have to have a heart of stone to not be moved to some degree. Granted that these are all interesting characters who are yearning for love and understanding that comes back to them neatly wrapped in wise and meaningful advice. They also remain, however, part of the heart-breaking, complex, poignant, and tragic conditions and components that have composed the human experience since the beginning of civilization and that have been more affectingly and effectively dramatized since plays were first written.
