{image1} Dennis is in bed until Warren drops by. Warren's brought a suitcase, a duffle bag and a lot of other baggage we're not seeing yet. He's come to crash at Dennis' place. Magazines, comic books and empty wrappers litter the floor. There's a mattress with no bed frame accompanied by only a few pieces of furniture. In the corner near the tiny refrigerator there's a large collection of LPs next to an old stereo. It could be any college kid's tastefully messy bachelor pad on the East Side, but it's not. It's the stage of Boulevard Theater's production of Kenneth Lonergan's "This is Our Youth." And it's every bit as fun as the songs (Ramones, Lou Reed) that punctuate the performance.
The opening settles in like a THC-soaked Saturday morning in the restless kinetics of early adulthood. Warren has run out on his father. He's trying to hold onto the memory of his late sister while letting her go. He's trying to hold onto his youth the way he's holding onto those valuable vintage toys he has in his suitcase. Dennis has held onto his youth through all those illicit chemicals he's been buying, using and selling. He's pushing away a girlfriend he desperately wants to make up with. She will only ever appear in the play as stunning Kodachrome beauty in the photos tacked to a cork board. Neither Warren nor Dennis seems to know about any of this as the play opens.
They spend much of the beginning casually talking. They meander around simple conversation until Warren shows Dennis what he's got in the duffle bag. It's cash. Lots of it bundled up with paper bands like you'd see in the movies. Understandably, Dennis and Warren are a bit anxious about all the cash, but those of us in the audience are far enough away from the stage to see what they can't. The money is entirely prop cash. And in spite of the scuzzy period décor of Dennis' apartment, we know this isn't 1982. We know this isn't New York. We know these things because we know it's a play and they don't. We know the stage is decorated with all the trappings of 1982, but it all has an anachronistically worn feel to it. The objects on stage have quite clearly been through the past 23 years and so have the actors, even if the characters haven't.
Ryan Berard plays Dennis and Matt Kemple plays Warren. Warren is pining after an unattainable woman who shows up at the apartment toward the middle of the play. Her name is Jessica (played by Anne Miller). The three form a spirited cast that lacks the perfected poise and stark, cosmetic beauty of a professional, Actor's Equity trio. The acting drops the sheen of authenticity to feel a bit artificial in places on three people that are casually charismatic. The performances are well-flawed with an authenticity that would most likely escape Equity actors.
A well-honed production by a more experienced ensemble would come off far too perfect for a story of characters still striving for the perfection of a childhood that is long gone. These three actors sometimes struggle to hold onto roles of characters struggling to hold onto their youth, occasionally fumbling and letting artifice drop into moments that are naturally inauthentic to truths of stage and youth. The actors' admirable flaws are a captivating vehicle for revealing the flaws of the characters they portray. Perfection and youth are out of reach only to be replaced by the murky uncertainty of adulthood.
Director Marjorie Schoemann loves this play. She mentions this love no less than twice in the program. She's brought it to the stage with all the frayed edges and worn surfaces of a VERY well-loved story. She's loved it too much for perfection. When I saw it, I noticed her sitting in the front row after intermission, seeing it again for the first time. With any luck, there's a library full of plays she's loved this much. The vision of her direction is a vigorously enjoyable addition to the Milwaukee stage.
The Boulevard Ensemble's production of "This is Our Youth" plays now through March 19 at the Boulevard Theater. Call (414) 744-5757 to purchase tickets.
