Theater of absurdity is like the over-the-top sibling of naturalist theater. While traditional theater attempts to portray the chaos of the human condition, absurdist works dare to play it out. Liza Birkenmeyer’s “Grief Hotel” is one of those performers, a strange snack-sized play that concludes 2023 for Clubbed Sam. summer works series — A proud incubator for strange plays.
Birkenmeyer’s virtuosic writing (in previous works such as Dr. Ryde’s American Beach House) and her affinity for morbid humor are returning here, despite the title. , “Grief Hotel” is more than just a tragic event. It’s actually a dark comedy. And while all the amusing oddities successfully portray the madness of grief and the complexities of millennial relationships, it ends up undermining the play’s message and the plot of the piece.
Aunt Bobby (Susan Blommert) is the outspoken mastermind behind the idea of The Greef Hotel, a bespoke retreat for people who have experienced tragedies such as illness, breakups and manslaughter. As she tries to get her concept across to the audience, Birkenmeyer interrupts Bobby’s marketing talk to reveal his own narratives, including Em (Nadine Malouf), Wynn (Ana Nogueira) and Rohit (Naren Weiss). A series of dialogues of young characters struggling with a sense of loss. ), Teresa (Susannah Perkins) and Usher (Bruce Mackenzie).
Some of the characters deal with death head-on, but “Grief Hotel” makes you think more about the fragility of relationships than the fragility of life. Remember this. Em and Wynn were college girlfriends. But now Em is having an affair with an uninspiring man named Rohit. Rohit is slightly attracted to Teresa. However, Teresa, who is non-binary, has already formed a romantic partnership with Wynn. Wynn craves her new experience and begins having a sexual relationship with Asher, who is heterosexual and married. Em reserves most of her lust for her AI her chatbot named Melba. In Em’s mind, the bot looks just like her Winn.
On the surface, this dastardly cross-pollination may sound amusing, but without enough exploration of these people, and enough time spent messing with them, the “Grief Hotel” is provocative. Rather, it feels like a vague social experiment on impulses and desires. , character-driven theatrical productions.
The ambiguity seems to be the intention. A landscape design collective called Dot drowns out the set in drab, mid-century décor for a three-star motel. And Tala Ahmadinejad’s languid direction fails to pump much-needed blood into the film. The overall lack of cohesive energy certainly resembles our divisive new age of digital dating (a significant portion of Birkenmeyer’s script consists of read-aloud text messages). ), but I found it very tiring.
Sometimes I wondered if hotels were purgatory for all these partnerships. It’s the void space that induces anxiety and determines whether a relationship dies or thrives. We never come to this conclusion or conclusion, but towards the end of the play Bobby offers a remedy for the group’s literal and metaphorical grief: gratitude. I appreciate the memories she shared with her past lovers and the memories she will make with future lovers. This will begin to heal any wound, more than time, more than medicine. And regardless of the production side’s fault, I was grateful for the reminder.
Greef Hotel Until July 1st at the Wild Project in Manhattan. Wild Project.com. Running time: 1 hour 20 minutes.
This review is supported by Critical Minded, an effort to invest in the work of cultural critics from historically underrepresented backgrounds.
