Birgit Huppuch (Dana), Jolly Abraham (Raina) and Tom Story (Lewis) in The Wolfe Twins. Photo: Igor Dmitry.
By DCist contributor Landon Randolph
The Wolfe Twins — Studio Theatre’s first commissioned play — is one of those domestic dramas that feels like the playwright kidnapped a few people she knew, threw them in a room with alcohol, and then raised the curtain. It’s what TV critics would call a “bottle episode,” and as anyone who watches too much TV can tell you, keeping people in a small place with lots of unsolved personal problems and ready access to caffeine and alcohol is a surefire recipe for drama.
The bottle in question, a bed and breakfast in Rome, is run by Alex (Silas Gordon Brigham). The epitome of the awkward and eager foreign host, Alex is visited by Dana (Birgit Huppuch), her brother Lewis (Tom Story), and Raina (Jolly Abraham), an artist and teacher. Dana and Lewis, who have drifted apart in adulthood, are using the trip to reconnect, while Raina waits for her husband to arrive for their vacation. Dana, who has planned the itinerary to the last detail, pesters Alex for affirmation of her plans while Lewis rolls his eyes and gets to know the free spirited Raina. Rachel Bond’s script smolders slowly: the beginning of the play is full of polite small talk as the guests defer speaking about their problems, and the way they avoid stepping on each others’ toes while visibly thinking how annoyed they are is great fun. Alex, meanwhile, punctures the silences with judicious suggestions of coffee, floating above the situation with an oblivious aplomb.
You may begin to think that if the characters are going to have this many artless pauses in the conversation they’ll need bigger cups of espresso, but be patient: all the coffee in the world isn’t going to help these people avoid their issues forever. Eventually the characters feel comfortable enough to embark on conversations more adventurous than the weather and their upcoming sightseeing, and the conflict, slowly building like a thundercloud over a dysfunctional Thanksgiving, breaks into the open. It helps that wine replaces coffee as the beverage of choice, and that Alex, the calming influence, goes to bed, but it’s clear it was a long time coming.
It’s a credit to the actors and the script that it seems both inevitable and sudden, in the peculiar way that characterizes all fights at the tail end of a party. It’s here that Huppuch’s Dana comes into her own, making the transition from buttoned-up micromanager to a drunk loose cannon, managing to be boisterous and vulnerable at the same time. As the guests careen into each others’ problems, they lay bare the issues they’ve been avoiding since at least the beginning of the play, but probably several years before that as well.
The morning after is the real reason to attend this show. It manages to capture both the tenderness and the distance between these people that now exists with a nuance that other shows might envy. The storm has passed, and the air may be clearer, but it sure left a lot of damage around — and it’s a mark of how good this show is that it seems like that matters.
The Wolfe Twins closes this weekend. Tickets, $20-25, are available here.
