Two people (or more) can have emotional intimacy without physical intimacy and vice versa, and when both intimacies are present it’s a delicate balance, as emotional and physical intimacies are negotiated differently. Trust is a tale about the intersections of intimacies, written by prolific American playwright Steven Dietz (best known for Lonely Planet and Ten November). Written in 1992, Trust assuredly is more glib than profound, yet even then Dietz was a veteran playwright who made his work pithy, stylish and witty so that—like a spruced-up piece of real estate—it showed well. It still does, under Christopher Maher’s simple and clean direction in which a believable cast eschews flashy acting—which is possible with this text—to deliver all the script has to offer.
Playwright: Steven Dietz. At: Open Eye Productions at Raven Theatre, 6157 N. Clark. Phone: 773-327-8970; $20. Runs through: Sept. 14.
Trust is a love triangle revolving around twentysomething rising rocker Cody Brown, who’s engaged to Becca, a non-showbiz woman in the publishing trade. Even as they plan their wedding, Cody begins an affair with Leah, a thirtysomething female pop icon on the comeback trail. Becca herself has at least flirted with another man, and before the final curtain she’s with Gretchen (Brigitte Ditmars). As side dressing and playwriting padding (and entertainingly so), Dietz provides a secondary couple, Roy (Dan Granata) and Holly (Jill Schmits), to comment on the indecipherable codes of male/female dating (they’re not even close to relationship).
It sounds complicated but it’s not. Dietz is a sharp story teller who uses projected titles, astute irony and direct narrative to the audience to introduce scenes, move the play swiftly and up the comedy quotient. Think Brecht meets Story Theater with a one-line Chekhov homage thrown in. Trust also is a prequel for Sex in the City (remember, it was written in 1992), for it very much is a woman’s play. Sexy rocker Cody (tall, good-looking Clayton Faits) is a passive male who prefers predatory women to light his fuse, and he has them in sardonic older woman Leah (earthy Anne Sheridan-Smith) and Becca (intelligent, flame-haired Kate Cares), who’s not above playing her own games. Dietz is funny, too, with a crack about how New Age music ‘makes you wish you were in an elevator,’ or the question ‘If you had to choose between a man and really good ice cream, what would you do?’ If the play has a shortcoming, it’s that Dietz is carefully non-judgmental and never suggests what’s needed to make a relationship thrive.
Staged in a black box theater, Trust uses wheelie roadie boxes for furniture, two mini-light/speaker towers and a screen for limited but effective use of light and film projections. The production is remarkably well-suited to the intimacy of the script, which easily might be staged with more rock spectacle, but needn’t be.