By Ruth Ross
Alliance Rep's Artistic Director Michael Driscoll has a knack for selecting interesting, offbeat, little-known plays for his company to produce. For the troupe's first offering of 2015 (in collaboration with the Summit Playhouse), he has chosen From Up Here, a quirky look at a subject very much in the news today: school shootings. What makes Liz Flahive's 2008 play feel fresh is that the story is told from the point-of-view of the would-be perpetrator and his family—"would-be" because the gun wasn't loaded and he merely waved it to scare his classmates. That we don't really find this out until the middle of the play—and because the details of the boy's predicament are released in a trickle—makes for a bit of confusion on the part of the audience and detracts from the view of the shooter as victim too.
Sounding at first like a perky situation comedy, From Up Here focuses on Kenny's return to school the September after his alarming rampage in the school cafeteria. The toll on him and his family is immense: Kenny's backpack must be searched multiple times a day to be sure there are no sharp objects in there (even colored pencils he uses to draw with are verboten). He has been tasked with writing an apology for his actions, which he must deliver to the entire student body and faculty in the near future. His mom Grace is trying to sell their house, and the fact that Kenny lives there will probably make that difficult. His sister Lauren wants nothing to do with him; she has her own reputation problems and doesn't need to be "punished" for being Kenny's sister. Daniel, completely tone-deaf to his stepchildren's teenage angst, wants Grace to bear him a child who will love him unconditionally. And, the unexpected return of Caroline, the free-spirit aunt Kenny loves so much, only adds to the family's misery; because she doesn't really "get" the full weight of what's going on, her chirpiness is grating in this fraught situation.
Director Driscoll has assembled a talented cast of actors to bring this story to life. Mitchell Vargas (right, with Graham Mazie) is splendid as Kenny, sullen, confused and sad (very sad). Just listening to him read the apology he's written or recount the bullying that drove him to brandish a gun will bring you to tears. His actions are a testament to the power of psychological bullying that can be even more psychically devastating than any body blow. As his sister Lauren, Melanie Randall is equally morose for most of the play, but when she eventually lets down her imperious guard in the face of her classmate Charlie's at first unwanted but finally sincere attention is a poignant moment in an angry plot. Graham Mazie plays motor mouth Charlie with a manic obnoxiousness that, while initially off-putting to the audience, finally wins us over too.
Beth Painter(right with Danny Siegel) is devastating as 41-year-old Grace, fighting to keep her family (and her own wits) together but completely bewildered by events swirling around her; her hysteria just lurks beneath the surface so that when she finally does crack, we are not surprised. In fact, the final scene between Painter and Vargas is immensely touching and totally believable. Kelly Maizenaski's Caroline is cheeriness personified, totally oblivious to the family's torment; she's a free spirited hippie who has traveled the globe. As the one family member who seems to be able to reach Kenny, she wisely counsels him that one day he will grow up and this will be over.
Alicia Cordero(left with Vargas and Chip Prestera) has the thankless job of playing an honors student assigned to mentor Kenny but who aims to fulfill her own cruel ulterior motives for doing so. Danny Siegel's portrayal of Kenny's stepdad Daniel is appropriately clueless and self-absorbed, which doesn't arouse much sympathy for this man who finds himself caught in a whirlpool of worry and strife. Chip Prestera does a yeoman's job a the upbeat guidance counselor Mr. Goldberger and the officious Officer Stevens.
Roy Pancirov has designed a multipurpose set that morphs from a kitchen to school cafeteria to guidance office and police station by moving/rotating panels. Brad Howell and Michael Driscoll's sound design uses music to set the high school scene, and Wendy Roome's lighting helps establish the play's gloomy atmosphere.
From Up Here has some very pertinent points to make. With most shooters being painted as monsters, Flahive presents them as mentally ill human beings whose families are not immune to suffering from their offspring's actions. Unfortunately, the play is a bit too long (clocking in at just under 100 minutes with no intermission), and there are several significant "holes" in the story that blunt its effect: Why is Kenny returning to his school, and why would the school let him do so? Is he (and his family) getting psychological counseling beyond being followed and searched and forced to apologize for his act? And while releasing key details in a trickle may be asound artistic choice, several people sitting around me were thoroughly confused through half the play.
This doesn't detract from Alliance Rep's production of From Up Here, a title that alludes to Caroline's mountain climb in the opening scene and Kenny's practicing his apology while standing on the kitchen table, so that he has to look his audience in the eye, something he has declined to do on a daily basis with his family and classmates. Once again, Driscoll and his troupe have brought a little-known play to our attention, and that is a good thing. You will talk about From Up Here over coffee after you have left the Summit Playhouse.
From Up Here will be performed at the Summit Playhouse, 10 New England Ave., Summit, through March 14. Performances are Friday and Saturday evenings at 8 PM. For information and tickets, call 908.273.2192 or visit www.SummitPlayhouse.org.
Note: Parking around the Playhouse is very tight—almost nonexistent. Arrive early to find a spot.
