“The Cis-Boys, Cis-Girls, Gays, Lesbians, and Trans Guys and Girls in
the Band”
Log Cabin, Jordan Harrison’s new play at
Playwrights Horizons, is a lot funnier than his glum but much-lauded—if not on
this blog—Marjorie
Prime at the same venue in 2015. It packs a sizable number of laughs
into its intermissionless 90 minutes, but its episodic, skeletal plot,
populated by skin-deep characters preoccupied by issues of gender identity,
only fitfully overcomes the impression of it being a cable-TV sitcom pilot.
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| Cindy Cheung, Dolly Wells, Jessie Tyler Ferguson, Phillip James Brannon. Photo: Joan Marcus. |
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| Cindy Cheung, Dolly Wells. Photo: Joan Marcus. |
In Harrison’s formulaic equation, Ezra, a writer, is married
to Chris (Phillip James Brannon), occupation vague, a black man from a
privileged background in Wichita, KS. Their best friends are the British Julia a.k.a. Jules
(Dolly Wells) and her high-earning, Asian-American (at least here) wife, Pam (Cindy Cheung). The other adults are Ezra’s
childhood friend, Henry (Ian Harvie), previously known as Helen, a transgender
man whose verbose young girlfriend, Myna (Talene Monahon), has a thing for trans
guys. And then there are the kids.
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| Ian Harvie, Dolly Wells, Jessie Tyler Ferguson, Phillip James Brannon, Cindy Cheung. Photo: Joan Marcus. |
The action takes place mostly in the women’s Brooklyn apartment,
which, judging by a subway scene, is likely in Fort Greene. Allen Moyer’s stylish setting—with its 15-foot tall,
laddered bookcases, islanded kitchen, and brand new roof garden entered via a
window on an exposed-brick wall—suggests an old place expensively redone.
Placed on a turntable, the set, handsomely lit by Russell H. Champs, smoothly
transitions to a child’s bedroom or Chris and Ezra’s bedroom, as needed.
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| Phillip; James Brannon, Dolly Wells, Talene Monahon, Cindy Cheung, Jessie Tyler Ferguson. Photo: Joan Marcus. |
Taking place in a series of scenes ranging over five years from 2012 to 2017, Log Cabin is largely devoted to clever
chatter, mainly about what it’s like to be an “outsider,” usually in the context
of gender identity, but also—although not deeply examined—racially. Chris
notes, for example, that “The world is changing too fast for people to
understand,” so the characters do their best to try to make sense of how such
changes are affecting them. Much attention is also paid to the way in which various identities within the LGBT community view each other (hint: it's not necessarily favorable).
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| Talene Monahon, Ian Harvie, Phillip James Brannon. Photo: Joan Marcus. |
One plotline concerns Pam and Jules decision to go “shopping for sperm” so Pam can conceive a child, the result being a baby named Hartley. The plot thickens slightly, in more ways than one, when
Henry arrives with Myna, the millennial girl he picked up at some Burning Man-like gathering. After Myna—in a scene that stretches
credulity—overhears something she shouldn’t, she’s gone, and the bearded, butch
Henry, who still has his uterus, becomes vulnerable to a request by Ezra and
Chris for him to bear their child.
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| Phillip James Brannon, Jessie Tyler Ferguson. Photo: Joan Marcus. |
Apart from this setup—other than another farfetched
contrivance that, for a time, separates Ezra and Chris—not much of
consequence happens. Instead, the characters hang out over drinks, cheese, and quince paste,
chewing over their particular sexual preferences, revealing their
limitations in understanding other behaviors, covering the political implications
of modern gender attitudes and choices, examining the evolving vocabulary (like
the term “cis”), and expressing thoughts and feelings about things the meaning of normalcy.
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| Dolly Wells, Ian Harvie. :Photo: Joan Marcus. |
For all their inherent seriousness, these discussions are
intended to be entertaining, not profound, and raise questions more than they
answer them. Sometimes the talk goes the throw-in-the-kitchen-sink route, touching on social media “likes,” consumerism, income distribution, and even the meaning
of evil. The unexpected outcome of the latter detour, though, in which Ezra
complains that “this country has become too liberal,” and suggests that “liberalism
is a kind of mass conformity” appears to be Harrison’s hint that Ezra is a
Log Cabin Republican, thus providing a reason for the otherwise baffling title.
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| Jessie Tyler Ferguson, Phillip James Brannon. Photo: Joan Marcus. |
On the other hand, what little we see of Ezra’s reaction to
the 2016 presidential election is anything but elated; the election itself is a minor motif that seems little more than a red herring used
to establish a time period and remind a New York audience of its own disappointment.
A touch of whimsical, if only passingly funny, novelty intrudes when Hartley, who has
worried his moms by taking longer than usual to begin talking, is played by the
grownup Harvie as a generally contradictory partner in imaginary conversations with
both Jules and Pam when they need to fill their respective voids. This allows
the infant to say, while chatting about a bedtime story: “It’s a little
schematic, don’t you think? You could bury the bedtime message better.” Later,
when Chris and Ezra’s baby is born, the elder Hartley mentors the newborn
during their own philosophical colloquy about what the future holds in store.
A fine cast, costumed by Jessica Pabst in modish clothes to
represent the characters' privileged status, is directed by Pam McKinnon to stoke the play’s comic embers for
as many laughs as it can get. For my taste, though, there’s a bit too much mutual
hugging and stroking when the friends lounge about, as if we must continually be reminded of how much these nontraditional couples love each other.
Within the otherwise
polished ensemble, the most intriguing presence is that of Ian Harvie, himself
a trans man, as both Henry and Hartley. He makes Henry convincingly real,
although, as written, Henry’s agreement to become a mother/father (or whatever)
comes too easily for someone who’s undergone two years of transitioning and
will have to lay off his beloved hormones. As baby Hartley, Harvie’s matter-of-fact
reactions help make those quirky scenes click,
Jordan
Harrison is a wit to watch. Here’s hoping that, next time out, he can house his precious gift for rousing laughter in a sturdier structure than Log
Cabin.
VIEWPOINTS:
Playwrights Horizons
416 W. 42nd
St., NYC
Through July 15