A Murder of Crows

Mac Wellman's abstract, absurdist tale of American yearning and defeat tells the story of Susannah (Jessica Jackson), who lives with her mother Nella (Wendy Wilcox) and her Gulf War-veteran brother Andy (Noah Kelly). Since the death of Susannah and Andy's father, the family has lived with Nella's flashy brother, Howard (Mason Waller), and his wife, Georgia (Kathryn Wood). Andy "came back strange" from the war, and now he stands outdoors on a pedestal, his skin turning to shining gold -- a monument. Susannah desperately waits for deliverance by "a change in the weather," and speaks in revelatory tones of "the psycho-apocalyptic urge." All of them live in a Middle American town poisoned by toxic waste both literal and figurative. Jackson has a ringing, musical voice that sometimes calls to mind Judy Garland. Her Susannah is a modern Dorothy, looking for a home that never really existed, hoping for a twister to change her life. Wilcox wears a mask of resignation and speaks in defeated tones as Nella, and Kelly looks great in metallic spray paint, though the actor's somewhat callow diction undermines his believability as a veteran. Rebecca Salzer choreographs a trio of attractive crows in black dresses and feathered berets (Frances Ward White, Janet Weeks, and Salzer herself), but Waller and Wood loll self-indulgently in their characters' accents. (Howard and Georgia are cartoonish enough without any help.) As the dubiously resurrected father, John Polak offers earnestness instead of detailed characterization. The action takes place on Melpomene Katakalos' simple, evocative set. Wellman's poetic wordplay and abstruse intellectualism are difficult to stage, but director Kevin E. Humbert lends clarity and humor to this Crowded Fire production, even though some performances lack crispness. Wellman's corrupt American dream -- "Something for nothing: the great dream of this great, big, lucky/slap-happy, lovable land of ours" -- is no revelation, but occasionally, it's intriguing theater.