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'Care of Trees' review: marriage on the rocks
Robert Hurwitt Or not - depending on how susceptible you are to Spreen's taut dialogue, Susannah Martin's skillful stagings and the engrossing performances of Liz Sklar and Patrick Russell. "Trees" revels in a dramatic form of magical realism that eventually runs a bit amok. It's the realism part that works to the most magical effect. If you think the opening looks ominous - with Russell's distraught Travis digging deep into the earth next to the magnificent spiral-staircase tree of Nina Ball's root-encrusted set - you're right. But not in any way you probably imagine. No, I'm not about to give away the story. What we know at the beginning is that Travis has lost Georgia and that his "get on with your life" friends and relations haven't a clue how deeply upset he is. And that we're going to get the story of their romance in flashbacks, mystically framed in video loops (by Ian Winters) that surround the action. Spreen excels in developing the relationship between this sometimes combative couple: He's an environmental lawyer, she's an architect, working with her developer father whom Travis deems "willfully corrupt." The language and Martin's orchestration of their courtship, growing desire, consummation and deepening bond laces the familiar with smartly comic originality. Sklar and Russell invest the action with a sharply defined individuality, intelligence and sexual chemistry that makes it irresistible. The density of their connection makes the fissures that appear in it all the more troubling. Language, again, is key, as Georgia's mysterious illness affects how she articulates her ideas. How the story develops from here will entrance some viewers and disappoint others. Sklar's portrayal of Georgia's disorder - or mystic mission - is riveting, as richly enhanced by Jake Rodriguez's rumbling score and sound effects as by Russell's wrenching reactions. But the story takes some wrenching turns as well. Spreen's fractured depictions of medical practices are incisive and witty. The more she piles metaphors atop mysticism and marital dynamics, though, the more diffuse and confusing the story becomes. Toward the end, Spreen's "Trees" has grown so thick it's hard to see the forest anymore. But it's a pretty impressive specimen all the same. |
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