LOS
ANGELES TIMES
April
23, 2004
THEATER
BEAT
"I
couldn't help deconstructing him," says one therapist to another in
"The Family Room," Aron Eli Coleite's searching new play about the
psychiatric profession and its discontents.
The
therapist is talking about a boyfriend she dumped, but she could be speaking
for all five shrinks depicted in Coleite's round-robin orgy of analysis. None
of these messed-up docs can resist applying their training to their own nearest
and dearest, though this learned perspective makes them scarcely more able, and
in some ways far less equipped, to handle the ups and downs of human relations.
Rebellious
teen David (Jonny Vincent) thinks he sees through all this flim-flam: Both his
father (Gary Carter) and his mother (D.J. Harner) are therapists who are in
therapy themselves--as are both of their therapists (Mary Cobb and Hubert
Hodgin).
To David,
this Mobius strip of navel-gazing is sheer hypocrisy, even if he must admit
some progress with the no-nonsense therapist (Jennifer Dithridge) to whom he's
sent.
And
David himself isn't above conducting an ill-advised experiment on an
introverted Goth classmate (Annie Quinn). A romance unexpectedly blooms, though
it can't entirely escape analytic damage.
Under
director Justin A. Yoffe, the performances have an edgy naturalism, though he
lingers a bit too thoughtfully over the theatrical device of doctors and
patients endlessly changing seats.
Still,
the play's authentic outrage and raw irony can't be stifled. Like any child
raised on the cold comfort of dogma, David must fight bitterly for unmediated
communication and unconditional love. That's a struggle all too many of us
shrink from.
--Rob Kendt