Review: Amy Herzog's Stellar 4000 MILES at American Stage

I am not too proud to admit that I am an easy crier at certain plays and movies. I not only cry at some Terms of Endearment weepie, or at some pet pic like the stark, but heartbreaking Umberto D, but I'll cry at something that's just simply beautiful, thrillingly of the moment, and poignant. At times I feel like Ricky from American Beauty: "Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world, I feel like I can't take it, and my heart is just going to cave in." Good theatre does that to me. When it's so breathtaking and everything comes together--script and performance and tech, all working in tandem, and actors truly connecting and creating real relationships that we, the audience, connect with as well--then I find myself surrendering to my tear ducts and quietly blubbering. I pray I never grow so cynical or so cold of heart that I am not affected to tears by moving theatrical moments, moments that I end up carrying with me like special memories from my own life.

Which brings me to Amy Herzog's brilliant 4000 MILES at American Stage. Yes, I cried while watching it, more than once. I teared up at the relationship in the center of the whole thing, at the incredible actors truly inhabiting their roles, and at an exquisitely scribed script that must be considered a modern day classic. It's a true beauty of a play. And I wept quiet, happy tears, tears of thanks. Thanks to the cast; thanks to the director; and thanks to Ms. Herzog. 4000 MILES is an authentic, moving piece of theatre, and it earns all of its tears and laughter. Not once during the show's 100+ minutes did it ever ring false.

It is not hyperbole to announce that 4000 MILES is one of the most beautifully rendered pieces of theatre that I have had the recent pleasure of experiencing.

The title 4000 MILES refers to the distance a young twenty-something, Leo, has traveled by bicycle to New York City where he will stay at the rent-controlled Greenwich Village apartment of his 91-year-old grandmother, Vera. Leo enters as one person--an unwashed millennial with no realistic pursuits--and leaves a man, a full human being who, due to his weeks with his grandmother, emerges a survivor much as she has been for nine decades. His growth and his complicated relationship with the leftist elder is what the play is about. There are secrets and twists, slowly revealed to us, but at the show's heart is Leo and his grandmother, both so different due to their ages, but both so similar and connected. It is rare to see such a deep relationship unfold. It is so real, so meaningful, that each audience member will see themselves on that stage--whether they identify with Leo or with Vera.

The performances are all stellar. Leading the way is Janis Stevens as Vera. Here is an actress who takes her time, whether it's in the seemingly simple act of pouring a cup of coffee or reaching out and touching her grandson's hand. Each movement is specific; each reaction totally believable, absolutely in the moment. This is what acting should be, and anyone interested in the craft needs to rush to American Stage to experience it first hand with Ms. Stevens' incredible work. She's that good--funny and heartbreaking, with impeccable timing. And the playwright and actress do not fall into the trap of old-lady clichés; in some ways, they turn those clichés on their head. We admire both the character and the actress inhabiting her. I don't know the real age of Ms. Stevens, but I never once doubted she was 91 onstage, slowly moving, hunched but still proud, losing the words she wants to speak but still here, struggling and persevering, and not allowing herself to become some demented Miss Havisham. This is a three dimensional performance, one I know that I will never shake. Even though we sense Vera's physical and mental fragility, she's the strongest force onstage.

This is a special time when it comes to local performances. Last week, I saw sensational work by one actor in Stageworks' Inherit the Wind--Richard Coppinger as Henry Drummond. It was a revelation. Well, at the exact same time, another of the year's best performances is currently showcased at American Stage. Ms. Stevens' Vera is a marvel. And phenomenal as she is, the rest of the cast steps up their game and almost reaches her glorious heights.

Casey Worthington as Leo is exceptionally strong. I love the scene where he's sprawled out on the couch, reading a book on Cuba (with an introduction by his late grandfather) and eating a candy bar (leaving the wrappers for his grandmother to pick up). He's so damned likable, lost but trying to find his bearings, that we root for him. He reminds me of so many young people that I know and teach. Worthington is especially spellbinding during his key monologue (Chris Baldwin's lighting is quite wonderful here, where Leo sits on the couch, hair down, his face in shadows as he tells his grandmother a story that answers one of the essential questions of the show).

As Bec, Leo's girlfriend, Dani Faitelson does as much as she can with the relatively thankless role. We understand what Leo sees in her, and she is able to show so much, so many layers, in her brief time onstage. And Maya Naff is extremely funny and over the top in the scene-stealing role of Amanda, Leo's self-described slutty date that he has brought to his grandmother's apartment. Funny as Naff is, there is moment with her that shocks us, and we are reminded of those times when everything is going well and then one thing happens out of the blue and suddenly, in the blink of an eye, it all goes to hell. 4000 MILES is filled with those moments, moments so real that we equate them with our own lives.

Much of the kudos to this incredibly acted show must go to director Benjamin T. Ismail. The pacing was perfect, where the show is deliberate but never boring. And the staging seamless; there wasn't a misstep in any of it.

Aside from Baldwin's previously mentioned excellent lighting, the tech works exceedingly well. Steve Mitchell's set is awe-inspiring, truly capturing a place that has not changed in almost 50 years. You get the sense that someone lives there, an old lady who hasn't changed the décor in way too long. Catherine Cann's costumes are quite appropriate, and Vera's see-through black dress near the end is a sight to behold. (Vera endures many wardrobe changes, all of them quickly done without taking too long, which is quite an undertaking.) Jerid Fox does well with the props--numerous art works fill the stage along with numerous books ranging from Karl Marx biographies to coffee table art books. The only qualm I had with the props is that the orange juice bottle is clearly marked from Publix. And since there are no Publix super markets in New York City, this is a minor gaffe. But if the only problem with a production is the wrong kind of orange juice that they drink onstage, then something is incredibly right.

4000 MILES is a show for the ages. I'm still thinking of it, comparing Vera to my own relatives. As all good theatre proves, a production like this doesn't leave us. It's that moveable feast that we take with us wherever we go. If you can see one local show this spring, then this is the one to run to. Even if you're not an easy crier like I am, I dare you to watch it, to see all that authenticity on the stage, all of the grand performances, all of the beauty of being human in a miraculous script, and not feel overwhelmed. You may not cry like I did, but you will never forget the experience. Ever.

4000 MILES plays until April 10th. For tickets, please call (727) 823-PLAY (7529).

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