Theater Review: The Book of Grace

Besides the Character’s Name, There’s Little Grace Here
By Lauren Yarger
The Book of Grace by Pulitzer-Prize-winning playwright Suzan-Lori Parks (Top Dog/ Underdog) offers some good performances directed by James McDonald, but not much grace or any real incentive to spend time with its three rather unlikable characters.

The night I attended, many folks in the audience snoozed through the 90-minute dysfunction fest and some who stayed awake reacted negatively, both physically and vocally to the depravity on stage.

The action takes place in Texas near the Mexican border as Buddy (Amari Cheatom) visits his estranged father, Vet (John Doman), and his stepmother, Grace (Elizabeth Marvel). The couple’s frumpy home is oddly designed by Eugene Lee with sand instead of a floor, a picture of the exterior of the house displayed behind it, and bags of sand at the rear where Vet has dug a hole for Grace.

Vet had dug one for Buddy’s recently deceased mother also. The exact meaning? We're not sure. Buddy, who apparently suffered terrible sexual abuse by his father, decides for reasons clear only to the playwright to accept Grace’s invitation to visit and attend a ceremony being held to honor Vet, a border crossing guard, for his capture of some illegals.

Buddy arrives and immediately has sex with Grace as though it’s a normal thing for a stepmother and stepson to greet each other after years of separation in this way. Then they sort of forget about it and start chitchatting with Buddy asking whether Grace thinks they’ll be friends.

“We’re more than friends,” she tells him. “We’re family.”

Grace is ever smiling to hide the terror she feels at living with the degrading, unkind Vet, (a stereotype of the bigoted, military type most pro-immigration reform folks imagine those who want to protect the border to be). She hopes that Buddy’s visit will somehow make things better (note to Grace: having sex with the son of your abusive husband is not usually the way to accomplish this, thought the border patrol guard who prides himself on knowing everything that goes on turns out to be rather obtuse….).

Her other hopes and dreams are captured in a book where she writes down things that make her happy: “evidence of good things,” which quench the thirst of her barren life when she revisits them. She keeps the book hidden from Vet, who doesn’t approve of writing things down. He prefers to keep his thoughts in his head where they are safe from theft.

Will Grace get to read her book? Will Buddy successfully bomb the awards ceremony to take revenge on his father? Will Vet get the crease just right on his uniform pants before he attacks someone with the iron? Do we care? The answer is no.

These characters are just too whacked for us to relate or to want to get involved in their lives, despite Parks’ attempt to convince us that the whole mess really is an allegory for the state of our nation. The good performances turned in by the actors are the production's saving grace, but we really don’t want to watch these characters past the first few moments of the play.

The Book of Grace runs through Sunday at the Public Theatre, 425 Lafayette St., NYC. For tickets call 212-967-7555.

Christians might also like to know:
• The show does not post a Mature Rating, but it should.
• Two males kiss
• Sexual activity
• Sounds of pornographic video
• Violence
• Language