Tough luck leads to angsty laughs in ‘Sons of the Prophet’
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Version 0 of 1. “A nervous romance” was the great tag line for Woody Allen’s “Annie Hall,” and “an anxious comedy” would nicely fit Stephen Karam’s “Sons of the Prophet” at Theater J. The 2012 Pulitzer Prize finalist has a whopping case of the jitters: the unsettled, unstable characters talk in halting fragments and say “sorry” a lot. These are people who murmur politely or blurt inelegantly until someone finally explodes in a profane tirade and becomes a YouTube folk hero. A ton of topics swirl through this fluid play, but its bittersweet soul is grief. The main figure, 29-year-old Joseph Douaihy, has just been orphaned due to a freak car accident. (His dad swerved to avoid hitting a fake deer.) Joseph badly needs health care; his body is mysteriously falling apart. His book publishing boss, an addled crackpot and depressed widow named Gloria, needs a hit. The fact that Joseph’s Lebanese American family is distantly related to Kahlil Gibran, author of the 1929 mega-seller “The Prophet,” gives Gloria a notion. That’s just the start of a script that warps the “Prophet” mantra “All is well” and yet isn’t a fraction as antic as a synopsis makes it sound. The play unfolds in long conversations played with comic delicacy by Gregg Henry’s ultra-sensitive cast, starting with Brigid Cleary’s bubbly, deliberately fidgety turn as the wildly inappropriate Gloria. As Joseph, Chris Dinolfo responds to Gloria and other trying circumstances with fraying patience; Joseph’s situation includes dealing with a sweetly mouthy younger brother (a perky Tony Strowd Hamilton) who teases Joseph for dressing “like a lesbian” (they’re both gay) and coping with a politically incorrect older uncle (Michael Willis, in a wonderfully reserved performance) who is disabled and is moving in with the boys. The wrinkle is that even peppered with punch lines, the agitated small talk frequently overlaps and sometimes dissolves into a chatter-y wash. Karam, the well-received author of “Speech and Debate” and co-writer of “columbinus,” spreads the script across so many characters and connections that it can feel stretched thin. Joseph’s extended conversation with a stranger in a bus terminal is a case in point. The stranger is a reporter named Timothy; the car accident was caused by a star quarterback on the local high school football team, and this little Pennsylvania town of Nazareth (naturally) is fascinated. Dinolfo and Sam Ludwig, as the privileged but unpretentious Timothy, play the scene beautifully, but as it slowly unwinds you may also wonder where exactly Karam’s twisted path is headed. Turns out he has a knack for affecting grace notes even amid broad farce. The highly entertaining final 20 minutes at Theater J makes you think the lavish praise for the play’s 2012 Manhattan debut was not entirely overblown after all, and it’s worth noting that Karam’s star continues to rise: his new play “The Humans” is an off-Broadway hit aimed for Broadway next spring. Luciana Stecconi’s simple, elegant set includes a haunting projection of Rafka, a patron saint of suffering, and the neutrally colored open stage lets Kyle Grant’s lights suggest all the scenic changes as Karam’s screenplay-style plot sweeps from the Douaihy living room to, say, a riotous school board meeting. The un-fussy design leaves the field clear for actors to deal in minute detail with Karam’s fragile figures. Jaysen Wright delivers a splendidly apprehensive performance as the guilty young football hero, whose showdown with Willis’s old-school Uncle Bill briefly looks like the most compelling moral dilemma in the show. Cam Magee and Vanessa Bradchulis provide pitch-perfect comic support that includes barbed private commentary that leaks into open microphones, and if Karam sometimes over-refines the chorus of quips, jabs and complaints, he is plainly a writer for our emotionally raw times. His ear for fretful, jumpy, funny dialogue is painfully good. Sons of the Prophet by Stephen Karam. Directed by Gregg Henry. Costumes, Collin Ranney; sound design, Patrick Calhoun. About two hours. Through Dec. 20 at Theater J, 1529 16th St. NW. Tickets $27-$67, subject to change. Call 202-777-3210 or visit www.theaterj.org. |