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Sylvia is Billy's Virgil, guiding him into the expansiveness of sign language, as well as the comfort and politics of the deaf community so spurned by his strident father, Christopher (Still), because the brazenly un-PC Christopher didn't want his son reared as an invalid. "We don't want to hear what sign [language] can do," he chastises Sylvia, after hearing about the remarkable though "concrete" expressiveness of sign language. "We want to hear what it can't." This is why Billy never learned to sign (which Sylvia teaches him) but has become expert at lip-reading — the key to his employment as a lip reader of security cameras to help solve crimes.

Playwright Raine is as candidly un-PC as Christopher. When the latter seethes at the idea of his son "belonging" to what he perceives as a sect, whose disadvantage it transposes into a virtue, he comes off as a pedant, albeit with a blustering, goading sense of humor. But with Sylvia, suffering every day from her diminishing capacity to hear, her complaints about the deaf community's "hierarchy" and insularity derive from an even more personal agony than Christopher's concern for his son — losing not only words heard but the classical music she cherishes (and plays on the family piano, in one scene). Perhaps Sylvia's gravest loss in the transition from spoken word to sign language is the loss of irony, a quality that lies at the center of who she imagines herself to be.

As Billy transitions away from his biological family to his adoptive one — causing the greatest anguish to his oft-posturing brother, Dan (Will Brill), who resumes stuttering as a consequence — Sylvia slips into an ever-more-intense isolation, intensely feeling a chokehold as though she's losing air to breathe. This is what Pourfar captures so subtly and adeptly.

Gayle Rankin has a similar spark as sibling Ruth, an aspiring singer who finally confronts her own lack of talent after being reminded of it so relentlessly by Dan. And Lee Roy Rogers turns in a spirited turn as their mother, Beth.

But the play's core profundity could be mistaken for a platitude — which it isn't. That wisdom is an echo from Fellini's final film, The Voice of the Moon, in which a group of characters gathers around a wishing well squabbling about what secrets it contains. One of them, peering into the hidden waters below, says that if we all stop talking for just a minute, we might actually understand something.

TRIBES | By Nina Raine | A Barrow Street Theatre production presented by Center Theatre Group at the Mark Taper Forum, 135 N. Grand Ave., dwntwn.; Tuesdays-Fridays, 8 p.m.; Sat., March 16, 2:30 & 8 p.m.; Sun., March 17, 1 & 6:30 p.m.; through April 14 | (213) 628-2772 | centertheatregroup.org

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1 comments
wld8hrt
wld8hrt

Ok, so I didn't hate this production but the praise for this work puzzles me. I came away feeling as if I had spent two hours being hit over the head by the obvious stick. There is no subtlety here. Yes there are a couple of occasional "big" words tossed in that try to make the overall story seem smarter than it actually is, but it's more a reminder of how dumb the author thinks the audience is than it is how intelligent the characters are. The morals and the lessons behind the story are important ones. But, personally, I would rather be given the tools and ideas of those morals and lessons so that I may figure them out on my own rather than be told exactly how to feel and think about them. The way the audience is treated is exactly how the author is asking you NOT to feel about her characters.

Several reviewers have complained that they could not hear much of the dialogue and attributed it to poor theater acoustics. I have a suspicion it was more of another, less subtle, attempt to make us sympathize with the deaf characters.

There are some fine performances and some entertainment value to be had, just not enough.

If you enjoy having your peas and carrots spoon fed to you, then grab your Chinette and get in line. However, if you prefer to savor the complexities of a gourmet meal, make your reservation elsewhere.

This play Is more Sesame Street than Mulholland Drive. More Hallmark Channel than Sundance. And better suited for the Pantages Theater crowd than the Mark Taper theater patron. Don't get me wrong, I am all for exposing the joys of the theater-going experience to more people. Just don't do it at the expense of those who have been there all along.

 
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