They are naked, and each modestly hurries to dress, at least partially, she (played by Melissa Chambers) earnestly trying to figure out how best to accomplish dressing while still preserving a semblance of coverage. He (Jeremy Waters) turns his back as he rapidly slips on his shorts.
The burning question in both their minds: Did they have sex? Neither can remember. But as the morning wears on that question seems to be the least of their concerns. How did they happen to be drawn together, and how did they end up in his Melbourne apartment?
It comes out that they had had their separate evenings of drinking and feeling sorry for themselves. She had attended the wedding of her first love, as maid of honor. She had wished them the best. But we know how that one goes: Always a bridesmaid, never a bride. She never says so, but…
He, on the other hand, was out on the town with friends, imbibing in order to forget the recent abrupt departure of his beloved.
They converse a good deal, trying to make sense of their present situation. He finally brings them tea and toast. They exchange history. He’s a writer, but works as a chef. She’s a waitress.
In the next scene, it’s afternoon. Warm lighting (by Cory Pattak) filtering through the window indicates the passage of time. The couple is now lying on the bed, glass of wine in hand, and playing Scrabble. He is discussing a childhood love, how he had pushed her off the swing. They exchange childhood memories, rather lyrically. They gradually move into dancing with each other. The scene ends.
In Scene 3 it is becoming dark and the window light further indicates that it’s raining outside. They had fallen asleep and now awaken.
More small talk, although now touching on the past emotional pain of their lives. She makes the effort to leave. They’ve been together 12 hours. He almost prevents her. Then, finally, they reveal their names.
It’s a nice play. If there is an underlying sense of importance, it’s that human relationships are difficult at best, and that we must struggle, usually by means of ordinary communication—talking—to discover the things that we have in common, and that draw us to one another and that ultimately bind us together. Or perhaps not.
The two performers are excellent, richly inhabiting their roles, bringing out every nuance that the text provides, and more. Indubitably, direction by Nick Flint has made the text come vividly alive via the two fine actors. The simple, serviceable set is by James Hunting.
“Ride,” in this its New York City premiere, has been presented by the Australian-based Outhouse Theatre Company, whose aim is to present theater that is “provocative, muscular, and vivid.” It marks a fine addition to the New York theater scene.
Ride
59E59 Theaters
59 East 59 Street
Tickets: (212) 279-4200 or www.ticketcentral.com
Closes: Feb. 8
Diana Barth writes and publishes “New Millennium,” an arts newsletter. For information: diabarth@juno.com