It might have been enough that Aretha Franklin was the Queen of Soul, but it turns out she was also impressively prescient. In July 1985 her new Arista release was—wait for it—“Who’s Zoomin’ Who?”
Yes, our soulful Aretha may have had an inkling that in 2020 everybody would be Zoomin’ everybody. She might not, however, have foreseen that Richard Nelson would expand his excellent 2010-19 Apple Family tetralogy with not one but two (so far?) hour-long plays in which his characters convene for dinner, as they so often have. The difference is that these two forays do not take place in the same Apple dining room or kitchen. Through the courtesy of Zoom, the five appear in separate, isolating Rhinebeck, New York homes.
A few months ago, under the Public Theater auspices, where the initial four plays were presented, Nelson introduced What Do We Need to Talk About? Now—and for the next eight YouTube weeks—Nelson’s Apple Family Productions sends out And So We Come Forth: The Apple Family: A Dinner on Zoom, prepared as an Actors Fund money raiser.
[Read Michael Sommers’ review here.]
As in one or another or all of the previous Apple family reunions, the participants are Albany government lawyer Richard Apple (Jay O. Sanders), his sisters Barbara (Maryann Plunkett), Marian (Laila Robins) and Jane (Sally Murphy)—the former two Rhinebeck teachers, the latter a freelance writer—and Jane’s partner Tim (Stephen Kunken), a restaurant owner and sometime actor.
Perhaps not so curiously, the strength of And So We Come Forth is also its weakness. (The hopeful title quote is from the last line of Dante Alighieri’s Divine Comedy.) As playwright (he also directs), Nelson captures the tenor of family Zoom get-togethers. This means he sets out a three-course dramaturgical meal so immaculately that viewers could feel they’ve already experienced the superficially desultory proceedings in their own Zoom family meetings.
To Nelson’s credit, the meandering, though always cogent, conversational issues will draw in the already Apple family followers and will likely gain any number of new devotees. This is not only due to Nelson. Also, heartily clap the actors on the back, were such unrestrained physical gestures allowed these days.
Rarely throughout the Apple gatherings has such naturalistic acting been observed on Manhattan stages. The local theater community gospel truth is that Sanders, Plunkett and Robins are among the city’s best performers. Murphy and Kunken are no slouches, either. (They all had to have been videoed in their own homes—Sanders and Plunkett are married—and in their own casual clothes. No set designer or costume designer aboard.)
So what do the Apples chat about throughout this early July 2020 meeting? Of course, they discuss topics being Zoomed everywhere, even at this moment. There’s no mention of the current White House occupant, although there is a glancing reference to fears about the November election, as well as to jobs irrevocably lost in the current shuffle. While in What Do We Need to Talk About? Tim was recovering from Covid-19, his status isn’t revisited here. Apparently, he has recovered. Marian does report the case of a non-English-speaking 14-year-old Mexican boy left homeless when his United States host comes down with the virus.
Richard, who’s been staying with Barbara for several months contemplating quitting the state capital, gives out with a Rhinebeck history, including the presence on the population rolls of an actual descendant of Genghis Kahn. Getting a haircut is celebrated. The difficulty of dating is parsed. Tim and Jane talk about his crashing at ex-wife Diane’s place and some of their problems. Their need to talk to each other is paramount.
At one point, Barbara exclaims, “God, we do adapt!” And the evidence is there, but so is evidence to the contrary. The beauty of And So We Come Forth is that as it unfolds the stress with which the Apples are dealing mounts in little and big ways. Because Tim is in Brooklyn. Jane has charge of Tim’s dog. She’s not thrilled when the pooch has an accident. After keeping a stiff upper lip for most of the exchange, Marian blurts her realization that she hasn’t touched another person in over three months. Even what they’re eating is suspect. While Barbara and Richard share a chicken tikka entrée, Marian picks at what looks like an omelet. Jane spoons cereal. Tim has already eaten.
It may be that—whether playwright Nelson intends the effect—Barbara, whose Rhinebeck home is the usual stomping ground for all of them, is really the focal figure. Somehow the matriarch, she’s often the last one shown registering the proceedings’ weight. That’s the situation here, after Barbara has dropped her flimsy guard to confess she’s never felt so old. She attempts to guide herself through by listening to Così fan tutti.
With his 60 or so minutes Nelson pins down the heaviness infusing today’s pandemic-inflected world as if he’s committed a beautiful butterfly to a board. The Dante “and so we come forth” quote concludes with the words “and once again behold the stars.” It’s a promising sentiment, but whether Nelson truly believes the promise isn’t—good for him—clear.
