Morning After by Zoe Senese-Grossberg
Continuing my dive into plays that poke and prod the grotesque world in which we currently find ourselves, Morning After gives us a group of friends waking up after a night of HARD partying. Several of them have little to know memory of the previous night’s events - due in no small part to having drunk the blue stuff in the parrot-shaped bowl. Bad idea.
The first to awaken is Nick, who is suddenly panicked because he is going to miss his flight - however his friends assure him that it has been canceled and he’ll have to reschedule - don’t worry about it. As the friends awaken, reconstruct the night before, and enjoy David’s eggs Benedict, the circumstances of the world beyond their party start to take shape. All of their parents have already departed the country and they are planning to leave in the next few days to meet them. However, the government may shut down all international flights. Or maybe they’ll be able to connect through Canada. Or maybe not. And maybe your citizenship may be called into question…
We never truly get the skinny on whatever global shift is happening, but the swift and devastating effects of governmental actions become all too present. The conversation is fun and charming - I particularly loved the running device of imagining themselves in other time periods, and the payoff of that device is unexpectedly poignant. I really appreciated the relationships and the banter, as well as the cleverly unsettling atmosphere doled out by little bits of information along the way. Honestly, it reminded me a bit of another play (that will remain nameless) that I think is attempting to have a similar sort of conversation, but does not do it nearly as effectively.
No comments:
Post a Comment