Playwright: Andrew Bovell. At: Circle Theatre, 1010 W. Madison St., Oak Park. Tickets: 708-660-9540; www.circle-theatre.org; $24-$28. Runs through: June 17
Kudos to Circle Theatre for presenting a new (2008) Australian play, a bastion of English-speaking theater all but ignored by Chicago (and American) directors. This award-winning play by Andrew Bovell also is a highly literate piece of work, the type of play I'd expect to see at Writers' Theatre, City Lit or Eclipse Theatre. Although facing financial challenges, Circle Theatre has eschewed the appeal of a popular musical or comedy and stepped up to the plate of art with an unknown and risky work, although one that is more than worthy.
When the Rain Stops Falling offers domestic snapshots of four generations of an English family and an Australian family, 1960s through 2039, a mystical year in which fish have disappeared from Australia. With scenes set in London and various Oz locales, the play relates how the unmarried relationship of Gabriel Law and Gabrielle York (both of the second generation) produces the next two generations, and sharply hints that the two families may have unknowingly connected years earlier under dark and terrible circumstances.
The language of the play is poetic, image-rich and often elegiac in tone but it doesn't make the work easy to understand. When the Rain Stops Falling jumps back and forth in time, and presents younger and older versions of its two women, all of which make it something of a jigsaw puzzle. Bovell's use of repetitive phrases and actionssomething of a cyclical structurefeed into the puzzle. You need to pay some attention as the lovely language flows, and in time the relationships will become clear, maybe too clear for comfort.
The themes, too, will become clear, and they are fundamental Judeo-Christian ideas: Is life random or pre-ordained? Are the sins of the fathers visited upon the sons? What are our personal responsibilities? The play's women become hard and bitter in their losses, and their husbands and sons do not always understand why or, sadly, do understand.
OK, yes, this is a serious play about serious things but it's far from an overbearing tragedy or a beat-you-on-the-head message play. It definitely could use some comedy (it has very little) and probably could be 12 minutes shorter if several monologues were edited just a bit. Nonetheless, there is beauty in its unfolding and great ability in the production. Director John Gawlik has coaxed lovely and poignant performances, across a wide emotional range, from all nine members of his ensemble. Even at a final preview, they didn't sound a single false note. And the projection-based design concept by Bob Knuth (set) and Kevin Bellie (projections) is visual poetry perfectly pitched to the play, with vast landscapes and smoky cityscapes.
See this one, a touch of real beauty at Circle Theatre.