STREAMING THEATER
Richard Nelson’s Latest Work: Only Connect
The Apple family of Rhinebeck returns in another moving, insightful play on Zoom
BY CHRISTOPHER BYRNE
The coronavirus continues
to wreak havoc on
the economy, the nation’s
health, and the political
scene, and everyone is caught in
the crossfi re. A simple trip to the
store or to pick up take-out can feel
like crossing a minefi eld.
If the public health crisis isn’t
enough, there is political unrest
with the eruption of a long-overdue
demand for an end to systemic racism
— and the removal of the icons
that celebrate it. Our so-called
leader prevaricates, distorts, and
promotes disinformation, only further
dividing the country.
One can’t help feel that “the
dread” Terrence McNally wrote
about in 1964 in “And Things That
Go Bump in the Night” is no longer
an abstract conceit but is, indeed,
a terrifying reality. It isout there,
and it will get us. We are in the
midst of an historic time of upset
and transformation of a magnitude
few of us have ever experienced.
We’ve hidden in fear of an unseen
deadly virus — and with it
now apparent there is no end in
sight, what is the impact no only
on our daily lives but on our longterm
emotional well-being? Will we
all have some form of PTSD if we
make it through to the other side?
Into this maelstrom of trauma
comes again the Apple family, in
a second play written for Zoom
by Richard Nelson. As they did in
April in the fi rst of these, “What
Do We Need to Talk About?,” the
Apples have assembled on Zoom
to share a meal and catch up in
“And So We Come Forth: The Apple
Family: A Dinner on Zoom,” which
will be available on YouTube until
the end of August.
Eight weeks after we last saw
them, the Apple siblings — Richard
and Barbara, sheltered together
in Barbara’s house in Rhinebeck,
Marian in her own house, Jane in
another part of town refusing to
leave except to walk the dog, and
her husband Tim visiting his exwife
in Brooklyn for their daughter’s
graduation — talk of their daily
Clockwise from top left: Jay O. Sanders and Maryann Plunkett, Sally Murphy, Stephen Kunken, and
Laila Robins in Richard Nelson’s “And So We Come Forth.”
lives, their worries, how they’re
managing. Or not.
Marian bemoans that she hasn’t
touched another human being in
months, even for a pat on the shoulder.
She looks into the camera and
says, “This is not the same.” Tim
worries that his daughter needs
to come stay with Jane and him
in Rhinebeck, along with a friend,
because life in Brooklyn has gotten
tense. Barbara is rejected by
her former students as she tries
to connect by text, and Richard
muses over a story of how two
grown sons desperate to clean out
a house they have sold are about
to throw all their dead father’s papers
in a dumpster. Just before
they do, they call their father’s college
roommate, who realizes that
this is a trove of valuable literary
papers.
As Richard says, “Pretty much
everything, to me, now feels up in
the air. And unreal. Unsettled. Uncertain.
And there’s the worry, isn’t
there, that anything and everything
could end up in that fucking
dumpster?”
Plot has never been central to
any of Nelson’s plays. Events occur,
but what is always more important
is how the characters respond
or react and the dynamics of the
personal relationships. The Apples
JASON ARDIZZONE-WEST
are highly educated — teachers,
writers, and a lawyer — but struggling
fi nancially and in other plays
their lives have been seen against
the backdrop of a dynamic society.
“And So We Come Forth” is no different,
though the change they are
surrounded with is mysterious.
There are passing references to the
political scene outside their doors,
but Nelson carefully keeps the focus
on the family and their interactions.
As in his other plays, audience
members, like the Apples, are
only too aware of what’s going on
in the world at large.
Tone is also central Nelson’s
work, and this play is more rueful
than the previous Zoom piece. It’s
very subtle, but the sense of time
having passed for the Apples, as
well as for the audience, and the
attendant stresses are beautifully
conveyed. At the same time, Nelson,
who also directed, beautifully
illuminates the sibling relationships
and stages the piece so that
one feels they’re with their own
family on Zoom. People walk out of
the frame, interact with the camera,
and behave like many people
do on these calls.
Nelson’s work defi nes theatrical
naturalism with a keen attention
to details of behavior. The effect is
kind of a balm to the audience as we
identify with the family’s unease,
uncertainty, and unfamiliar emotions.
There is a sense that grief is
always just below the surface, but
the Apples are determined to make
the best of it for themselves and for
one another.
The cast is the same as it’s been
for all the Apple plays, and in this
case, familiarity breeds deep affection.
Jay O. Sanders and Maryann
Plunkett are Richard and Barbara
(married in real life, the two actors
appear in the same frame), Laila
Robins is Marian, Sally Murphy is
Jane, and Stephen Kunken is Tim.
Together, this ensemble illuminates
the well-worn relationships
of siblings over time: the love, the
caring, the frustrations, the pettiness
— in fact all the complexities
of a family. They are all so at home
in these characters that even the
smallest nuance of behavior is telling
and noticed by the others. At
one point when Marian reaches
for the screen because she cannot
touch anyone, that simple gesture
is profoundly moving. The specifi city
and detail of each of the performances
is what makes these plays
work on Zoom.
At one point near the end of the
60-minute piece, the family ponders
what’s next and they marvel
at what we as a culture have done
to ourselves. They wonder about
what will be important when this
is all over. They ask whether art
will still be important as part of
the human experience in whatever
the new world there will be
after this. The Apples don’t have
an answer. However, this play is
itself the answer. Art will be more
important than ever when we can
fi nally move on and be more fully
ourselves.
AND SO WE COME FORTH: The
Apple Family: A Dinner on Zoom
| Available on YouTube through Aug.
31: youtube.com/watch?v=kY2p-
CDNnYM | Free, but the presentation
is a benefi t for The Actors Fund,
assisting tens of thousands of theater
professionals affected by shutdowns
related to the coronavirus;
donate at actorsfund.org.
July 16 - July 29, 2 30 020 | GayCityNews.com
/watch?v=kY2p-
/actorsfund.org
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