Tyne Daly became a star being a tough tootsie in the Cagney & Lacey TV series and since has enjoyed a fine career depicting more or less assertive women. Her younger brother, Tim Daly, also maintains a dandy career on stage, screen, and TV, often handsomely enacting smooth, charming men.
In crafting Downstairs, a play designed to costar these gifted siblings, Theresa Rebeck hit upon the devilish notion of challenging them to interpret people significantly different than the smarties whom their fans expect to see them tackle. It is to the credit of both Dalys that they immerse themselves so deeply and successfully into creating such different (for them) characters.
Opening on Sunday in a New York premiere by Primary Stages at the Cherry Lane Theatre, Downstairs is a three-character drama set entirely in the basement of an older suburban house.
[Read Melissa Rose Bernardo’s ★★★ review here.]
Designer Narelle Sissons provides a realistically dingy setting, which presents exposed framing, a cement floor, disused junk, and stacks of battered cardboard boxes. A ratty couch squats over on one side, next to an outmoded personal computer. A wooden staircase diagonally cuts across the room. The set, with its dusty crates of stashed stuff, offers a visual metaphor for a drama that unpacks intimate secrets.
A toilet flushes. The 100-minute play starts.
Emerging from the bathroom is Teddy (Tim Daly), an unprepossessing man in late middle age. Teddy is unshaven, his greyish hair is a porcupine mess, and mostly he wears shabby cargo pants and a crummy tee-shirt. Edgy, distracted, Teddy’s manner is as disheveled as his appearance.
Teddy soon is joined by Irene (Tyne Daly), his older sister. Looking dumpy in a sloppy cardigan and skirt, Irene is a mildly anxious hausfrau who seems fond of Teddy, but is none too happy that he is crashing on her basement couch. As their conversation flows along, it becomes clear that Irene really is worried more about what Gerry (John Procaccino), her husband, thinks about Teddy’s presence in their home.
Through Rebeck’s characteristically natural-sounding dialogue, Teddy is revealed to be a mildly paranoid guy who may be a brilliant autodidact but for now is at loose employment ends. Irene obviously fears her domineering husband, whom she later confesses to be a “horrible man.” When eventually Gerry comes downstairs to try to evict Teddy, he is shown to be a manipulative creep.
And hey, what’s going on with Gerry’s battered computer? Said to be broken, it seems to work just fine for Teddy. Hmm—what might be stored in there, anyway?
Without telling more plot, matters develop into something of a thriller as Teddy urges Irene to stand up to Gerry. The drama’s later minutes yield a taut confrontation.
Downstairs is not an entirely satisfying drama. Before the story twists into suspenseful mode, it gets downright sleepy. Adrienne Campbell-Holt, the director, somehow should have punched up that soft spot in her otherwise solid staging of the play. Still, some distinctive charm and subtle comedy arises amid Rebeck’s chitchat between Teddy and Irene as they fondly reminisce about growing up with their batty parents. (As one who survived just such a childhood, I appreciate the rueful truth in their recollections and affectionate bond.)
While the play is not among Rebeck’s finest, it certainly delivers satisfying dramatic moments. Resembling an Art Carney from Hell as Gerry, Procaccino is a quietly menacing presence. It is, of course, a pleasure to watch the Dalys, soeur et frere, believably give life to anxious characters who are unlike the confident individuals they usually portray.
