Learn the "Secrets of the Trade" at 59e59

For a play that's about the theater, Jonathan Tolins' Secrets of the Trade is surprisingly cinematic in its scope and narrative devices. Tolins' play -- which probably includes some autobiographical elements -- is a coming-of-age story about a theater-loving young adult named Andrew Lipman (Noah Robbins) who matures under the influence of a legendary stage director, Martin Kerner (John Glover). The play checks in with Andrew in mostly two year intervals from the age of sixteen when he first writes Kerner to ten years later. Andrew's initial fawning admiration for Kerner sours into a love-hate relationship as Kerner simultaneously educates and disappoints Andrew over the years.

In addition to the fallen-idol trope, Tolins integrates the anguished-parents trope as well. Peter and Joanne Lipman are the supportive parents who yearn for Andrew's admiration even as he comes to value Kerner's approval the most. Mr. Lipman suffers the irony of pushing his son to write to Kerner only to find himself losing to Kerner in the battle for Andrew's affection. The climax of the Lipmans' struggle with their son occurs after he has graduated from college and produces an avant garde autobiographical play that portrays his parents as suburban buffoons who don't understand their son. Mr. and Mrs. Lipman also represent dried up hopes. Peter Lipman had the chance to work with a famous architect and gave it up for his family. Joanne Lipman was a dancer in "her other life," who now only has memories of her performing days. Their performances make us think about our own processes of growing up and severing parental ties.

The New Yorker describes Secrets of the Trade as a comedy, and it does have many funny lines. The cynical assistant, Bradley, is played perfectly by Bill Brochtrup, who offers moments of comic relief as he alludes to Kerner's inner diva. But ultimately, Tolins is trying to illuminate the difficulties of growing up in an uncertain age.

The age here is the Reagan era. We're not so-subtly told that it's Reagan by the crackling radio at the beginning projecting the voice of an NPR announcer who says that Reagan has just won. While the Reagan era is irrelevant for the first half of the play, it takes a more prominent place in the viewer's mind once Tolins explores

The current Primary Stages production of the play at 59e59 Theaters benefits from a cast of seasoned actors. Amy Aquino, a regular on television, plays the aggrieved Jewish mother competing for her son's affection convincingly. She deadpans in the appropriate places and inspires the most sympathy in her snarky moments. Aquino's success isn't surprising since she was in the premier cast in LA's Black Dahlia Theater.

Wolves: A Metaphor for Love

Wolves is a play about 30-year old angst in New York City that grows into a play about 40-year old angst in New York City. It transforms from a play about growing up to a play about growing old. But it's a transformation with some rough patches.

Wolves opens with a couple driving home from a party. We can tell that Caleb (Josh Tyson) and Kay (Elizabeth Davis)'s relationship is on the rocks from their stifled car conversation. Flashbacks between them in the car and the party help fill in the gaps. Caleb is a former college football kicker who is now an unemployed writer. Delaney Britt Brewer's script doesn't reveal what Kay does for a living, but her elitist breeding comes across in the insecurities that Caleb expresses to Kay's friends during the party. "Where did you go to school?" Roslyn (Sarah Baskin) asks him. "Just a lower state school. One step up from a community college...One step down from KFC." Needless to say, Kay doesn't appreciate this self-deprecation, and confides to Ros that she's turning into her mother, with a permanent frown plastered to her face. In the midst of all this, Caleb gets hit on by a twenty-one year old who encourages him to take ecstasy. Back on the drive home, the combination of drugs and repressed emotions causes Caleb to hit a wolf. A debate ensues as to whether or not they should kill the wolf. Kay wants them to kill the wolf cause it's in pain, while Caleb can't bear the thought of killing a creature with "love in its eyes." The disagreement leads them to confront their own love for each other. (The wolf is a metaphor for love--get it?)

As you may have guessed, the wolf metaphor continues throughout the play's three (short) acts. In the second act, our attention shifts to Julie and her brother Elliot as they wait to throw their mothers' ashes to the wind. Julie is struggling with a recently ended relationship with Sasha, a woman who now "wants a family," who is now with the Caleb of the previous act. A hallucination involving a wolf suggests that she is afraid of love. The third act shifts back to Caleb--now with Sasha. They have a daughter named Wolf, through whom they speak to each other. This section is the most originally thought out. Wolf sits on a spinnable miniature house and reads out loud from pieces of paper that represent notes that Sasha and Caleb have supposedly written to each other. Unfortunately, the wolf metaphor is quite transparent--as are all the characters' feelings. They use elegant, yet improbably sentences to explain their feelings. For example, Caleb compares the phrase "I love you" to wall paint when he confronts Kay.

Staged in the intimate, 56-seat Theater C at 59e59, a major advantage is that there are only good seats in the house. However, the close-up look also magnifies the fact that Wolves takes on slightly more than it can chew. It could have done without the middle act. Neither Elliot nor Julie's characters are given enough time to develop. In fact, Brewer seems to take a shortcut by devoting a large portion of Julie's time to a hallucinatory scene. At the same time, I'd rather see a relatively obvious play than a willfully obscure one.