Peter Floyd’s
lovely ABSENCE (@ Boston Playwrights’ Theatre through March 3rd) is
a poignant, even redemptive story about “forgetery” (my own mother’s invented
word for her frightening slide into dementia). Like Arthur Kopit’s heroine in
WINGS, Helen can’t process what people are saying. Like Kopit, Floyd immerses
us in Helen’s point of view so we can experience the confusing gibberish she’s
struggling with as she loses her ability to understand words or remember
people. (My absolute favorite of Floyd’s nonsensical phrases: “It’s trellis in
the unconditional dirt.”)
Conventional
wisdom about dementia and Alzheimer’s maintains that whatever difficult
qualities the person exhibited prior to onset, will worsen with the disease. But
if you’ve seen the exquisite film, IRIS, you know that the opposite can occur. Murdoch
became a pussy cat, as did my formidable mother.
Floyd starts Helen
out as a strong willed, self sufficient woman who brooks no interference so we
get to see the frustration her family encounters, trying to cope. Floyd slowly
ratchets up her helplessness, her vulnerability and her desperation. Little by
little, our allegiance shifts and we find ourselves pulling for Helen to somehow
reconcile with her frazzled daughter and in some miraculous way to find peace.
Hooray for Floyd. He finds a nifty dramatic way to pull it all off.
Suffice it to
say, ABSENCE speaks to me because I’ve been there, done that but I think even
if you haven’t had a brush with dementia, you can appreciate the story telling
and the real ring of truth…and you’ll be impressed with director Megan Schy
Gleeson’s extraordinary cast.
Joanna Merlin
was ill so Kippy Goldfarb took over the role of Helen at my performance and
gave an astonishing tour de force. When Helen and her granddaughter (a spirited
Beverly Diaz) have their harrowing scene together, a “Please, please” from
Goldfarb reduced me to tears (and I don’t cry easily at the theater). And tears
again, when the wonderful Anne Gottlieb, as Helen’s longsuffering daughter,
rails at her mother and in a moment of “clarity,” Goldfarb is able to comfort
her.
Bill Mootos
provides the welcome laughter (and solace) in ABSENCE, Cheryl D. Singleton, the
professional kindness and Dale Place,
the grounding in reality. Don’t miss this remarkable glimpse into the terrible
workings of the mind.
