Joan Marcus Photo
Donohoe and Chalfant.
If someone says a play is “risky,” what does that mean? That it handles a taboo subject, that it goes against political orthodoxy, or that its staging is avant-garde in some way? Amy Herzog’s new play, Mary Jane — at the Yale Repertory Theatre through May 20 and directed by Anne Kauffman — is risky without any of those things being true. It’s risky in its willingness to be unsentimental, unsensational, and sharply observed while dealing with childhood illness and single-mom parenting. The risk is in how straightforward and untheatrical it is, and the satisfaction is in how clearly it fulfills its purpose.
Mary Jane (Emily Donahoe) is raising a child with a very serious medical condition. We first see her in her apartment, among other women who help her out, such as the capable Sherry (Shona Tucker), or who turn to her for guidance, such as Brianne (Miriam Silverman). In Act 2, set in a hospital, the same actors play a different range of characters with only Donahue remaining the same character, the pragmatic Mary Jane. Emergencies occur, life goes on, concerns become more taxing. And that’s it. Along the way, Mary Jane asks questions about what things — like faith maybe? — might make her lot in life easier. The most convincing thing about the play is that it shows her asking questions without necessarily finding answers, nor, for that matter, losing hope.
The play is fascinating in how successfully it creates a world of real people involved in real situations. Each person Mary Jane interacts with feels like they’ve stepped out of actual lives. Kauffman’s cast is particularly adept at speaking Herzog’s simple prose without any kind of actorly affectation. The play’s strength is its sure tonalities, and its ability to make us empathize with a situation that most of us would find depressing and disheartening.
When the seemingly stable apartment set cracks open to take us to the inevitable hospital, we move with Mary Jane to a different plane of anxiety. Now we’re faced with the protocols of hospital care, the professional manners of doctors, such as Dr. Toros (Shona Tucker), who has to steer gently Mary Jane’s concerns, and a music therapy aid, Kat (Vella Lovell), who gradually shifts from professionalism to a personal touch. Through it all, Mary Jane remains a harried woman whose sense of decency never flags. This is a story of the heroism of simply being humane in hard situations.
Donohoe and Silverman.
And that seems to be the play’s main point: for someone like Mary Jane, all the well-wishing in the world isn’t going to make a difference. She has to cope day by day with an impossible situation, and it is only the fact that people are sympathetic and reliable that makes her life at all bearable. Along the way we hear of the setbacks and of caregivers who aren’t reliable, but Mary Jane, in Donahoe’s deeply appealing and grounded performance, seems to take everything in stride. Her performance is so artless as to seem not a performance at all. You may find yourself tempted to send Donahue sympathy cards.
In Act 2, Herzog creates some low-key but pointed interactions that suggest lines of thought we might take rather than leading us to a message. A Jewish mother, Chaya (Miriam Silverman, delightful), in much the same situation as Mary Jane, ponders whether her beliefs help her. Late in the play, a female Buddhist monk, Tenkel (Kathleen Chalfant, wise and worldly), fields Mary Jane’s curiosity with matter-of-fact ease. There’s a sense that, no matter how much we cling to the everydayness of life, our regular world will end, as will some who now people it. How we face such inevitable loss is a test we can’t really experience until it happens. Mary Jane gives us a glimpse.
Mary Jane runs at the Yale Repertory Theatre, 1120 Chapel St., through May 20. Click here for more information.
