Sometimes the greatest dramas are the quiet ones that show us life is more than the sum of our external accomplishments: the real revolution comes with the painstaking triumphs of our internal struggles.
With surprising depth, humor, and delight, Primary Trust, Eboni Booth’s 2024 Pulitzer prize winning play, is such a drama, set in Cranberry, New York, the fictionalized Rochester suburb, population 15,000, where the motto is “Welcome friend, you’re right on time”. And with astute direction from Jerry Dixon, excellent performances from the tight ensemble cast, and carefully synchronized technical elements, Farmers Alley Theatre’s production of this thoughtful, inviting show brings the audience into real emotional transformation through witnessing what unfolds onstage.
The narrative is driven by 38-year-old Kenneth, our thoughtful, anxious, endearingly awkward hero who speaks directly to the audience and plays out dynamic scenes of what might be seen as his rather unremarkable life, with his bosses, customers, servers, and singular friend, Bert, who is an utterly real, guiding force for the socially anxious and deeply lonely Kenneth, although no one in his external world can see him.
It’s not so much what happens externally that makes the play so compelling—though watching Kenneth drink Mai Tai after Mai Tai at Wally’s, his favorite Tiki bar, lose his 20-year job at a bookstore and muster the courage to apply for a job at a bank, make real friends with a cocktail waitress, try martinis for the first time, and nearly lose it all in a work confrontation, effectively keeps our attention through incredibly well-written dialogue, excellent timing, and inspired performances—it’s how he navigates each painstaking moment, the internal struggle, and the meaning Kenneth makes of his life and his world, that are so deeply moving.
Kenneth has a heightened awareness of the past, present, and future, which builds beautifully toward several crescendos, influenced by obstacles both real and perceived, internal and external, made especially poignant by what looms in the background, and is ultimately revealed in the retelling of his tragic origin trauma.
Time stood still for Kenneth as a child, and in many ways he is stuck. But in the play, time is ever present, and always marching on, shown with the repetitive ding of a call bell (sound design by Alexandra Trocchio) to demarcate Kenneth’s do-overs of what’s inside his head, with scenes ultimately playing out both internally and externally—the line between them somewhat, and interestingly, blurry—though also made clear, in part, with distinct yet malleable spaces created by set designer Samantha Snow in conjunction with lighting design by Kristen Chesak that shows us not just where to look but emphasizes how to feel. Altogether it’s an artful representation of the very human experience of trauma and how one beautiful soul ultimately moves through it.
That beautiful soul is played with poise and passion by DeVaughn Asante Loman, who goes to the depths of Kenneth’s emotions, and captures the internal and external experience of his emotional disregulation in a way that inspires compassion if not empathy.
He’s utterly charming in exquisitely-rendered scenes with the three other actors on stage, particularly Bianca Washington, who is a force as Corrina, the cocktail waitress and would-be love interest who is so quietly loving and real with Kenneth, it invites him to be open about himself for the first time. She also skillfully captures a multitude of other characters, often with humor and surprising complexity with little more than accents, facial gestures, and posture to distinguish them.
Michael Ray Helms also plays several characters, the old white guys in Kenneth’s life who hold the cards in his career. Helms is especially generous, gruff, and funny as his bosses.
And Byron Glenn Willis has just the right touch as Bert, Kenneth’s best friend who helps manage his internal world, providing the support and love he’s lost and needs most. Willis lights up the stage with his easy presence and has terrific chemistry with Loman.
Whether or not we identify with the particularities of Kenneth’s life, we can’t help but recognize ourselves in his humanity—how devastating loss is what makes us grow and things inevitably change despite our resistance. And yet, life goes on. Simple truisms abound and are surprisingly important reminders: “The sky is blue—whatcha gonna do?” and “Even though it hurts, love is very good” among them.
To love is to experience loss; in fact, to live is to be changed by loss. To know these truths is to be human, whether we like it or not. But to feel them anew, by moving through the time and space of another’s experience, can deepen our understanding of and appreciation for what it means to be human.
This is the powerful effect of Farmers Alley Theatre’s excellent production of Primary Trust, and a reminder of what terrific live theatre can uniquely offer us.
Primary Trust
Farmers Alley Theatre
Jan. 22-Feb. 1
https://www.farmersalleytheatre.com/shows/primary-trust
