For a while when I was watching The Best We Could – which comes with the phrase “a family tragedy” parenthetically slotted under the title on the credit page – I apparently had the wrong impression of what playwright Emily Feldman was up to.
Because four of the five characters repeatedly spouted small talk and often such that the frequently argumentative outbursts became irritating, I thought Feldman was using “tragedy” ironically. I had the impression that Feldman was suggesting the tragedy that most of us American families endure is small-talking ourselves to death.
An amusing, if discouraging, dramaturgical thesis, I had to admit, but an original take on the well-known dysfunctional family play that’s so dear to the hearts and minds of many American playwrights. (It’s no accident that what many consider the great American play of the last century is Eugene O’Neill’s Long Day’s Journey Into Night, which brutally and unrelentingly exposes the battling Tyrones.)
But before Feldman finished with husband-dad Lou (always reliable Frank Wood), wife-mom Peg (Constance Shulman, nattering expertly), daughter Ella (Aya Cash, gently imploding) and longtime family friend Mark (the jocular Brian D. Coats), she’d disabused me of my reviewer’s flight of fancy. In her intermissionless 90 minutes, she wasn’t positing small talk as the abiding family-unit downfall, which she might have accomplished in much short order, anyway.
She had a true tragedy in mind the entire time, a tragedy the details of which won’t even be spoiler-alerted here. Suffice it to say that Lou, Peg and Ella’s woes don’t end happily. There’s a whole lotta trouble goin’ on, not the least of which is the death of dog Brandy, whom father loves best, and whose demise begins the action.
Lou, by the way, is out of work, which is, of course, a genuine concern in a society where men with bladders of a certain age are no longer easily employable. That’s too true for Lou, even though he has well-placed friend Mark in a position to help.
Ella, now 36 and somewhat of a drifter, is having troubles of her own. Nothing she’s ever set her sights on has panned out, not ballet, not other truncated endeavors, and now not any prospective publication for an illustrated children’s book she’s trying to sell. One rejection skip dubbed it a
“Marxist screed.”
Peg is a retired events planner and now strictly a housewife, whose love for husband and daughter, is, more often than not, expressed through nagging. Her first line to Ella over the phone is “Are you sitting down?” She repeats it – or some form of it – so many times that some abraded audience members may find themselves inclined to repeat it along with her.
Feldman follows the three New Jersey dwellers over a series of weeks and months while, among other events, Lou and Ella take a cross-country trip together for the purpose of acquiring new dog Candy, Meanwhile, Peg is home nag-nag-nagging and threatening to sell or not sell a home – mortgage is mentioned — they may no longer be able to maintain. Simultaneously, Lou is applying for jobs he doesn’t land. Unsurprisingly, younger applicants prevail.
Well, woe is them as Lou’s loser status worsens before fadeout. Perhaps it’s possible the impetus behind Feldman’s The Best We Could is the current national worry popularized by former president Donald J. Trump, who holds that the worst anyone can experience in a lifetime is being regarded as a loser. It’s even worse, the playwright implies, if you’re from New Jersey’s capital, Trenton. (As is this reviewer.)
Incidentally, my suspicion that tragic small talk was Feldman’s concentration seemed initially supported by Lael Jellinek’s set – or anti-set. A large Persian-like rug occupies most of center stage. Easily shifted folding chairs are placed a few feet from the rug as well as four stacked and unused metal pallets and a large table.
The sparse furnishings as well as the cast members wearing what look like rehearsal clothes (Anita Yavich the costumer) got me thinking that Feldman is contemplating no specific home but that the space she calls for is intended to pass for every American home as it qualifies for small-talk haven, if not heaven.
There’s another prominent The Best We Could element; meta-theatricality. The action begins, or doesn’t quite begin, when Maps (Maureen Sebastian) walks downstage even before designer Matt Frey has the auditorium lights turned down.
Strongly directed by Daniel Aukin (as are all the troupe’s five), Sebastian as Maps does some preliminary house business, such as welcoming patrons and reminding them to silence cell phones. Only then does she switch into providing stage directions for the others. Not only that, but she assumes a few supporting roles, like Adele, a dedicated Zumba instructor with a previous Lou connection.
Why Feldman decided to involve Maps, who mostly operates as a traffic cop, is unclear. The ubiquitous figure registers more as a cutely pretentious presence, tempting a slightly annoyed reviewer to say that with The Best We Could, the playwright could have done better. But I’m resisting the cheap parting joke, preferring to report that from start to finish Feldman evidences real talent. Next time, it’s likely she’ll fare much better.
The Best We Could opened March 1, 2023, at City Center Stage I and runs through March 26. Tickets and information: manhattantheatreclub.com
