If The O.C. has taught the entertainment world anything, it’s that audiences are interested in the plight of teenagers. However, The Distance From Here, written by Neil LaBute and directed by professor Mitchell Hébert, does not delve into the world of attractive, affluent teens, but rather opens the door to the world of apathetic, lower-class suburbs.
The Distance From Here, showing at the Clarice Smith Performing Arts Center until March 3, is a combined production by the university’s theatre department and Washington’s Woolly Mammoth Theatre Company. The play tells the tales of a group of neglected youth, all from broken families, who must struggle through the harsh odds life has thrown at them. To move the audience, The Distance From Here relies on violence and aggressive language, and at times overemphasizes and exaggerates points to an almost painful level.
The play opens in a zoo with a young man, Darrell (James Gardiner), and his best friend Tim (Michael Saltzman), who are howling at and imitating the monkeys they see in cages before them. But when Darrell angrily inquires what reason the monkeys have for smiling in captivity, the symbolism is hardly subtle. It is obvious the play is stressing it is these kids, skipping school and bumming around, who are not going anywhere; they are the ones stuck in the metaphorical cage of the low-income cycle.
Even the parallel set serves to emphasize the similarity between Darrell’s life and the limits of a zoo cage: The monkey cage is at one end of the stage, and Darrell’s messy living room is at the other.
As the play progresses, we learn Darrell is a young man who would rather smoke cigarettes in the school’s parking lot than attend class, and this walking rebel stereotype is given personality only through Gardiner’s acting ability. Tim is more of a bumbling lackey, tied to Darrell since childhood, than a partner in rebellion. Saltzman fits the role well, aptly portraying a nervous and defensive sidekick.
But soon, Tim becomes less of a friend and more of someone for Darrell to take his anger out on – and Darrell’s got a lot of anger to get out, both on his best friend and on his detached girlfriend, Jenn (Alice Gibson).
Darrell struggles to confront his emotions, and an exasperated sigh accompanied by a “whatever” becomes almost a mantra for him as his world plummets further into despair. It is quite clear, however, that Darrell is far from uncaring – if the gravity of the dialogue isn’t enough to convince the audience of this, nonverbal elements of the play reinforce his underlying attitude.
The theater lights fade after each scene in which Darrell receives particularly disturbing news. A faint spotlight focuses on Darrell as his scowling face stares off into the distance, emphasizing his feelings of solitude. The music also adds depth to The Distance From Here, as selections of popular, angry rock blast throughout the theater in between scenes and provide a glimpse into Darrell’s rage.
The set design also accentuates Darrell’s unorganized, chaotic life: The living room of his home is dimly lit and cluttered, the coffee table is covered with unkempt papers, and the floor is littered with trash.
But there are flaws to The Distance From Here, as some aspects of the play are too over-the-top to be believable. For example, Darrell’s foul-mouthed and self-involved mother, Cammie (Jennifer Plants), seems more keen on drinking and making out with her current boyfriend, Rich (Tim Getman), than on parenting. As she informs Darrell that she hardly remembers his childhood, the picture she presents of a neglectful mother is too exaggerated to be acceptable.
Similar character flaws are present in Darrell’s stepsister, Shari (Jo Higbee), a neglectful single mother herself. As her newborn howls from an unseen room, she and Cammie agree that it is better not to attend to him, for that will raise his expectations; they believe the baby should know, right from the start of life, how cruel and uncomforting the real world is. While LaBute is obviously trying to convey how jaded the two women have become because of the cruel and uncomforting world around them, the lack of logic in the scene is almost insulting to the audience – it simply comes across as LaBute ramming his stereotypical characters down our throats.
While LaBute has tried to disturb the audience with Darrell’s tough life, it is the chilling conclusion that truly leaves the audience unsettled. LaBute’s point, while overemphasized at times, is clear enough: Somebody needs to look out for kids who have it rough, because there is no telling how far their anger will carry them. See for yourself with The Distance From Here.
Contact reporter Clara
Morris at diversions@dbk.umd.edu.
