Like many in his crowd, Jamie, the successful attorney at the center of Peter Gil-Sheridan’s new play, This Space Between Us, is tired of watching reports of chaos and carnage on MSNBC. Unlike most of us, though, Jamie has decided to something about it. “Defending corporate fat cats from lawsuits they deserve to lose is not important,” he announces in the first scene. “It’s practically criminal.” Amen, brother.
Alas, Jamie’s conversion—or evolution, more accurately—doesn’t delight everyone in his circle. His boyfriend, Ted, seems to be on board, at least initially, when Jamie reveals his plan to leave his cushy job to work for an international aid agency serving the African country of Eritrea. So does Jamie’s aunt, Sister Pat, a nun who believes her nephew has been called by God, as she was. But his father, Frank, a Cuban-born Republican who refers to Ted as “General Hospital”—because he sees his son’s beau as a “walking soap opera,” as Jamie explains—is dumbfounded, as are Jamie’s mom, Debbie, and his closest platonic friend, Gillian, a youngish woman (mid-thirties, like Jamie) with a thirst for attention so deep that a thousand social media posts probably couldn’t slake it.
Gil-Sheridan, who has explored the intersection of personal and societal quandaries in plays such as Topsy Turvy Mouse and What May Fall, approaches Jamie’s dilemma with a mix of empathy and whimsy that’s extended equally to all his characters—so that under Keen Company artistic director Jonathan Silverstein’s cogent guidance of an excellent ensemble, their motley foibles emerge as endearingly, frustratingly human, and often quite funny as well.
This Space Between Us opens at a race track, with boards bearing titles such as “Approximate Odds” and “Win Pool” providing the central feature of Steven Kemp’s spare set design. They remain in place throughout the play, presumably for their metaphorical value; between scenes, they also offer space for digital tidings, ticking off reports of environmental and political strife to further emphasize what Jamie, for all his good intentions, is up against. Periodically, the dialogue is interrupted by a spotlight that literally illuminates his angst.
The comedy never really skews dark, though, because of the fundamental decency Gil-Sheridan instills in everyone—even Gillian, whose aggressive solipsism is made so entertaining in Alex Chester’s performance that you’ll enjoy her even at her most obnoxious. Glynis Bell’s warm but sharp Sister Pat is her foil, a true believer who’s sufficiently down to earth to harbor a fondness for Sarah Jessica Parker—and to duke it out, hilariously, with Joyce Cohen’s wry, spry Debbie.
No character manifests the playwright’s generosity more than Frank, who however narrow his perspective clearly embraces and wants the best for his son, and Anthony Ruiz’s gregarious performance leaves us feeling much the same way for the father. Tom Heleringer’s winningly dry Ted balances neediness with devotion, while as Jamie, Ryan Garbayo proves a fine, sturdy anchor; investing his role with charm and passion while giving us glimmers of impatience and even callousness, Garbayo makes a convincing case that this guy a) would have chosen corporate law as a profession, b) would eventually yearn to do something more virtuous, and c) would find the pursuit of virtue more challenging than he had expected to.
To be fair, that Jamie is—spoiler alert—not able to save the world in one fell swoop says as much about the conditions surrounding him as his own fortitude, or lack thereof. That This Space Between Us nonetheless leaves us relatively uplifted is a credit to everyone involved.
This Space Between Us opened March 9, 2022, at Theatre Row and runs through April 2. Tickets and information: keencompany.org
