Write about what you know, that’s what they say, but be prepared for the aftermath. Not to spoil the anguished twists of Jon Robin Baitz’s Other Desert Cities,but when the affluent Wyeths of Palm Springs come together to celebrate the holidays, the Christmas spirit is shattered by daughter Brooke’s gift, the manuscript of her unpublished book. Unfortunately, it is a family memoir. Suddenly the holiday cheer turns threatening.
Earlier this year, the well-crafted production opened off Broadway at Lincoln Center with all signs pointing to Broadway. Now opening at the Booth Theatre, the broader stage emphasizes the affluence of the Wyeth’s lifestyle without hinting at the simmering unrevealed secrets. Beneath the immaculate décor, high-styled resort wear, crisp, sophisticated wit, swirls a maelstrom of misunderstandings, lifestyle clashes, and, as an absent centerpiece, an absent son, Henry. Under director Joe Mantello’s assured hand, Other Desert Cities, is riveting theater, the play of the season thus far.
Former screenwriter, accomplished matriarch Polly Wyeth (Stockard Channing) and her husband Lyman (Stacy Keach), a retired movie actor, are conservative Republicans, once part of the Reagan social clique. Youngest son, Trip (Thomas Sadowski), a reality TV show producer, has come down from Los Angeles. Daughter Brooke is back for her first visit in six years. She had moved to Long Island to escape her family, but she never could escape the unanswered questions muddled in her mind and spent several months in a psychiatric hospital.
When I reviewed the off-Broadway production, the play was tight, the ensemble impressive. Two upcoming cast changes seemed problematic because the originals, Elizabeth Marvel playing fractured Brooke and Linda Lavin as Polly’s recovering alcoholic sister, Silda, were so deftly on target. Luckily, their replacements lend individual assets. Judith Light’s Silda is slim and frail yet quick with her bright, brittle quips, a precise display of her character’s intelligence and weakness. Even as she is temporarily supported by her sister, Silda takes every opportunity to push Polly’s buttons, so the tension between the two sizzles. Making her Broadway debut as Brooke, Rachel Griffiths (from Baitz’s television series, “Brothers and Sisters”) displays a polished control at first that blankets her resentment, her friction with her mother, and a desperate need for the family’s approval of her book. It was Brooke who was closest with her older brother, Henry, and is outraged at her father’s Christmas toast to the family that does not mention Henry. In the second act, Griffiths finally unleashes Brooke’s tenuous vulnerability with piercing anguish.
Stockard Channing remains a seamlessly confident Polly Wyeth, wearing the character like a second skin, skillful at keeping the unmentionables at bay. As Lyman, Keach lets Polly take the lead until the explosive second act when he can no longer live with the deception and he ignites the emotional firestorm. Thomas Sadowski portrays Trip with commendably natural ease and his sibling interaction with Griffith is right on target. Trip, too young when the troubling events happened, is now caught in the middle, forced to act as buffer. As it turns out, the free-wheeling Silda is not as removed from the scandal as it first seemed.
The opulent expanse of John Lee Beatty's curved stone wall and beige furnishings is enhanced with Kenneth Posner’s lighting. While David Zin’s costumes for Polly and Lyman reflect Southern California elegance, they contrast with Brooke and Trip’s contemporarily haphazard look. Judith Light wears a bleaker caftan than Lavin, which better illustrates her unkempt situation.
Baitz, Mantello and this smart ensemble commendably keep a balance in the battle between the family’s fierce dysfunction and their love for each other. A coda at the end drives this point home.
