Theater is the ultimate medium of the imagination, more so than film or TV. With the latter two, there is the potential to travel literally anywhere in the world (or the universe in fact), but the audience must work their minds to transform the four corners of the stage into the four corners of the earth. The stage provides more magical experiences than the ones offered before the large or small screens since you are a collaborator on making the trip and not just a viewer looking through the cinema camera lens.
Two current productions take us on thrilling journeys employing metaphorical means and imaginary dialogue. Broadway’s Life of Pi chronicles the harrowing voyage of the title character, while The Coast Starlight, though less flashy, is just as imaginative in its staging and thought-provoking in its dramaturgy. Playwright Bunin conjures a chance meeting on a 36-hour train ride between a group of strangers. In reality, they barely exchange a few words. But Bunin places them in an alternate dimension where they converse on what they might have said and done had they revealed their true selves instead hiding behind the barriers of civility. Director Tyne Rafaeli cleverly reconfigures the seats on Arnulfo Maldonado’s flexible, revolving set in multiple combinations to reflect the shifting relationships among the passengers. Lap Chi Chu’s lighting and 59 Productions’ projections add to the transitions and transformations while Daniel Kluger’s evocative original music resonates with impact.
Each character is faced with a crisis and is making a figurative and literal trip to find their best possible next step. T.J. (emotive Will Harrison) has deserted his naval base and must chose between leaving the train to return before it’s too late or living the life of a fugitive. Jane (charming Camila Canó-Flaviá’) is an animator with ambivalent feelings for her current boyfriend and a strong attraction for T.J. Veteran Noah (rugged Rhys Coiro) leads an aimless existence on a friend’s boat and is visiting his ailing, senile mother. Sparkplug Liz (scene-stealing Mia Barron) is fleeing a catastrophic couples weekend. Alcoholic salesman Ed (volcanic Jon Norman Schneider) explodes with frustration over his shattered homelife and nowhere job. Loving Anna (tender Michelle Wilson) is returning home from identifying the body of her estranged junkie brother.
The format of random strangers coming together in a small common space is a familiar one. Thornton Wilder’s novel, “The Bridge on the San Luis Rey,” Lanford Wilson’s The Hot L Baltimore, and Tennessee Williams’s Small Craft Warnings are three examples that spring to mind. Fortunately, Bunin’s variation on this theme is a rich and varied one. He paints each passenger with vibrant colors and telling details. Mia Barron’s Liz is particularly memorable as she bursts into the car, ripping all manner of personal items from her bag and broadcasting the events of her chaotic weekend in a non-stop monologue into her cell phone. The loneliness of Ed’s relentless hotel-hopping work life are made stunningly specific in Jon Norman Schneider’s sorrow-infused performance. I can still see the exotic cocktails he orders at the hotel bar, served in ceramic jars shaped like skulls.
The action reaches a heart-stopping climax as T.J. must make a final decision and the other passengers lay out how harrowing and desperate a life on the lam would be. Then each traveller steps off the train and on with their lives. As with Life of Pi, the ending here is somewhat ambiguous. We don’t know what will ultimately happen to each of the characters, but the point is to dramatize the journey that brings them to their current position. Bunin, Rafaeli and company do a masterful job of guiding us along the way.
