Battlefields of the heart

• Article
• Comments ()
• Click-2-Listen
• Videos

By James Kirchick

Fifty Words

Adam and Jan, a successful 30-something New York couple whose marriage is the battlefield in Michael Weller's

"Fifty Words," are spending their first night alone together in nine years.

That lack of quality time is partly due to the needs of their troubled son Greg, who is having his first sleepover on the evening we encounter them in their apartment, where Adam is preparing to leave on one of his frequent business trips. Adam and Jan's naughty sexual banter, however, masks deep wounds that neither partner has been willing to confront - until tonight.

Adam, who amus es us with tales of his own delinquent childhood, is unconcerned by Greg's misanthropic behavior, which has led to problems at his upscale private school. His permissiveness leads Jan, who epitomizes the uptight Manhattan mother, to accuse him of parental delinquency ("I need you to be a grown-up," she orders). A revelation of infidelity, a stream of insults and rough sex ensues.

Jan, who gave up on her hopes of becoming a professional dancer to join the rat race, has since come to the conclusion that her life with Adam is a sham, "a marriage constructed around just a child." Adam - who tries his best with a shrill and capricious wife - is the more sympathetic character, to the point that his unfaithfulness, if not morally defensible, at least makes sense. The play, staged in the round at the Contemporary American Theater Festival in Shepherdstown, W. Va., takes place entirely in the couple's sleek kitchen, whose implements serve alongside words as weapons.

Despite the awful things they say to each other over the course of two acts, it's nonetheless evident why these characters - brought vividly to life by Anthony Crane and Joey Parsons - originally fell in love, and we're invested in their attempts to recapture that original spark. That's a credit to Mr. Weller, who has updated the template of the spousal domestic drama exemplified by Edward Albee in "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?" In both plays, the characters try to outdo one another in verbal warfare ("You can say just about anything when you know there's no future," Jan tells Adam), and an unseen child is a source of marital discord.

When Jan tells Adam that marriage is simply the least worst option for "two people who aren't good enough to go it alone," it hits us with disturbing veracity. With this dreary assertion, Mr. Weller cuts to the eternal core of romantic coupling.

3 1/2 stars

Dear Sara Jane