It's not a cheerful reunion: after hearing that his father has gone missing, Ray Moss arrives at a squalid desert shack to find the family patriarch dead, laid out on his bed with his hands clasped over an empty bottle. Sitting vigil is Ray's long-absent brother, Earl, who refuses to allow the three-day-old corpse to be disturbed. As the siblings squabble over widely differing childhood memories, Ray demands to know the facts of the late Henry Moss's final days, ruthlessly interrogating witnesses to the events culminating in the cryptic homecoming. What emerges from the testimonies of the despondent Earl, their fussy next-door neighbor Esteban, and the driver of a taxi summoned from faraway Albuquerque, is a bizarre tale of the old man embarking on a fishing trip, accompanied by a fiery young woman he met in a jailhouse drunk tank, where she proclaimed him deceased. Instead of responding to her assessment with his customary scornful belligerence, we are told, Henry Moss began to wonder if her report of his demise might not be exaggerated. Well, the proverb warns that cowards die many times before their death. Those who seek to deny their fear through cruelty to others can be redeemed, with the help of a spirit guide to steer them on the right path—Esteban, who ministers to the wounded with soup and companionship, could be one—but at the end, the recalcitrant bully's only escort to the grave is a mocking banshee in sexy lingerie who strips him of his last illusions before leaving him to serve as an example to his sons. Will his bitter lesson be heeded? Ray already appears ready to follow in his sire's abusive footsteps, but Earl's acknowledgement of his past misdeeds offers hope of a better future. An electrical mishap mandated that Artistic Home's opening night performance be illuminated solely by the storefront auditorium's house lights (seven unfiltered fresnels, to be specific), with only sound cues to mark the evening's progress. Even under these impaired circumstances, Kaiser Zaki Ahmed's direction of an ensemble exhibiting the intense subtextual focus that is this company's hallmark keeps us cognitive of the narrative's underlying themes every minute—no easy task given Sam Shepard's sun-stunned universe. In the role of the terrifying Henry Moss, Frank Nall commands the stage with a charisma at once repugnant and pathetic, but look for Arvin Jalandoon and Yadira Correa's rough-hewn angels to linger in your contemplations long after the brothers Moss have set forth on their respective journeys.
