Photo: Joan Marcus
Playwright Tracy Letts’ Pulitzer Prize and Tony Award winning drama August: Osage County, now running at the Ordway Center, opens with a single line from T.S. Eliot’s The Hollow Men. “Life is very long,” family patriarch Beverly Weston quotes with detached resignation shortly before his character goes missing. But while Beverly’s disappearance becomes the catalyst for bringing the estranged Weston family together, August: Osage County isn’t aimed at sentimental reconciliations. Like Eliot’s depiction of transient souls forever seeking a meaningful connection, the central characters of August: Osage County are alienated by a lifetime’s worth of insecurities, resentments, and outright hostilities. Thankfully the volatile hysterics of the Weston family tend to be, from a voyeuristic perspective, bracingly hilarious even when the caustic barbs conceal deeply unsettling truths.
Set on the desolate plains of rural Oklahoma, August: Osage County wastes no time in putting the Weston family under pressure, trapping the characters in the overheated confines of a sweltering country home and letting their tempers rise to a boil. Violet, the family matriarch, only pauses from combativeness when her voracious intake of prescription drugs renders her sedated. Eldest daughter Barbara is coping with a faltering marriage and a defiant teenager. Middle daughter Ivy keeps her personal life compulsively guarded, even as the youngest daughter Karen impulsively boasts of her impending marriage, seemingly oblivious to the many unsavory traits of her husband-to-be. Aunt Mattie Fae is just as searing as her sister Violet, especially towards her own husband Charlie and their hapless son, Little Charles. Not a single member of this household seems safe from the persistent emotional sniping, except perhaps for the recently hired housekeeper, Johnna Monevata, who quietly observes the chaos.
Having so many characters in constant (often agitated) states of interaction, it’s all the more impressive that Tracy Letts imbued each role with such extraordinarily layered and distinctive personalities. Throughout the work, new revelations are constantly undermining expectations of these relationships. Long buried secrets emerge and, like falling dominoes, topple the perceptions of every connected character. The family dynamic itself, so loaded with gravitas of parental judgment and sibling rivalry, is in a constant state of flux as the family members push and pull against one another, each struggling to impose their own will against the rest. As a psychological study of families, Letts achieves a remarkable portrait, one that will be surprisingly recognizable to any family that’s ever argued over the dinner table.
At the center of the Weston family’s emotional maelstrom is Violet, played by seasoned performer Estelle Parsons. Honed over a year of playing the character on Broadway, Parson embodies the role with stunning authority. Her corrosive tongue, so liable to lash out at any given moment, is absolutely cringe-inducing. But this domineering exterior hides an inner fear so paralyzing that it’s nearly impossible not to pity this embittered and forsaken matriarch, especially during a devastating last act when the full consequence of her actions become clear.
Parsons is supported by an exemplary cast that finesses their roles with equally detailed craft. Of particular note, Jon DeVries’ turn as Beverly takes a role with relatively limited stage time and makes his presence felt for the entire duration. Without overplaying the part, DeVries evokes the essential sadness of his character with resounding emotional weight.
Much of the responsibility for maintaining a sparked narrative is given to the three Weston daughters, played by Shannon Conchran as Barbara, Angelica Torn as Ivy, and Amy Warren as Karen. Each performer rounds out their respective role with exceptional depth. Amy Warren’s Karen, for example, would appear a flighty optimist at first glance – until we see how her every action seems a panicked denial of reality. Likewise, the responsibility worn by Angelica Torn’s Ivy grows increasingly threadbare as the play develops, making her character’s ultimate fate feel nearly predestined. But it is Shannon Conchran as Barbara that makes the most stirring impression, following a character arc that swings from prodigal daughter to assumed family head to something never intended.
Director Anna D. Shapiro keeps the action brisk, moving from scene to scene with a masterful balance of tension and humor. The detailed set design by Todd Rosenthal, a cutaway of the house, further prevents the action from stalling, allowing the audience to see the interactions of even those characters outside of the prevailing scene. Lighting designer Ann G. Wrightson provides additional focus to the approach, fluidly shifting the lighting from room to room in order to follow the action. The carefully collaborated set and lighting designs are also responsible for allowing a unique shadowing effect to shape the mood.
Within this old country home on the distant plains, isolation leads to introspection. Like looking into a warped mirror, the characters of August: Osage County never know where distortion ends and perception begins. But perhaps, as this powerfully evocative work strongly suggests, such distinctions make little difference. In the fading light of day, it’s all just reflection.
August: Osage County runs through 03/21.
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