The intimate play, Don’t Hydroplane, written by Bryan Curtis, held its world premiere at TheatreWorks @ the Square on July 7th. Like almost any opening night, the production stuttered a few times, but the heartfelt performances from the cast made this show one worth seeing. Curtis’ script quietly highlights how families navigate grief and, less quietly, how grief can be pushed aside by societal customs and matters of practicality.
Martha Jones plays Annagram Woodard, the more reserved of two sisters who have just lost their mother. The other sister, Betty Queen Petty (often referred to as “BQ”), played by Sally Stover, is a woman people in the South might refer to as a “pistol.” She has a lot to say and expects everyone around her to be ready to listen. The play opens with the two sisters meeting at the local funeral home, where the eccentric and loquacious funeral director Karry Matlock, played by Curtis C. Jackson, explains — eventually — that there is an issue with their mother’s burial. There’s no room for her in her originally planned plot.
Most of the play centers around this conflict: Where should Annagram and BQ lay their mother to rest? The actual dilemma lies under the surface: Annagram is a people-pleaser and BQ is a bulldozer. Don’t Hydroplane follows their struggle to unpack decades of entrenched family dynamics and drama while also trying to solve a problem with no clear-cut solution.
Director Cleavon Meabon IV said in a statement, “Don’t Hydroplane is a family piece. It’s a comedy, but it’s comedy alongside drama, and I think we all can relate to how much we all need to laugh as a family.” Much of the comedic relief within the main familial unit of the show comes from Jesse Woodard, played by Cary Vaughn. Jesse is a showboat and has been doted upon to such a degree that he carries in every movement the self assurance of being adored. Alternatively, his sister, Laura Leigh, played by Lena Wallace-Black, seems to be somewhat of a black sheep of the family, not that she appears to mind in the slightest. Vaughn and Wallace-Black artfully balance the tone of a sibling rivalry, yet it’s a rivalry without animosity. Every brother/sister scene carries with it the warmth of familiarity.
Much of the play is composed of simple conversations, with the occasional heightened emotional outburst providing levels of both hilarity and very real depictions of the many facets of grief. These moments lift the play out of what could be an occasionally contrived slice-of-life piece and bring it into the territory of something more poignant.
Jones’ performance as Annagram is quiet and unassuming — much like the character herself — until the final act, where both the character and actor suddenly come alive in a burst of color. Annagram finally makes her stand, insisting, “I do care,” and Jones’ delivery of this pivotal moment was flawlessly executed.
Don’t Hydroplane is a play that almost everyone should be able to relate to. Grief affects us all, and part of becoming an adult is realizing that mundane things like wills and funeral arrangements will insist on being taken care of even in the midst of the incredulity of loss.
Many of the characters portrayed in this show feel like people the average rural resident will recognize. The neighborhood busybody, or your high school English teacher’s wife, or even your obstinate family member who insists they’re “nothin’ if not open-minded.” The normality of the characters is balanced by the interchangeable Creek Chorus, who frequently switch between side characters in another element of comedy that breaks up the tension of the heavy subject matter.
The final note is thankfully one of peace. There is catharsis for anyone who has experienced loss, and the simple joy of seeing death and grieving tackled in an uplifting manner. Meabon said, “I really want people to walk away with a sense of comfort.” This hope comes through in the overall spirit of the performance.
Don’t Hydroplane runs through July 23rd at TheatreWorks.