BWW Reviews: Chance Theater's WELCOME HOME, JENNY SUTTER

Whether one is pro- or anti-war, there is no denying that our brave, valiant soldiers—performing duties several continents away that many of us couldn't even fathom—all deserve our reverent respect. As newscasts take very brief pauses between disgraced pro-golfers and the latest political scandals to report on the conflict in the Middle East, Americans are fleetingly reminded that as long as the war rages on, many of these heroic military men and women are either about to deploy to, are in the middle of, or are coming home from the harshest of situations. One such woman mired in the latter is the basis for Chance Theater's Southern California premiere of Julie Marie Myatt's WELCOME HOME, JENNY SUTTER, a play that tackles the enormous task of dramatizing a soldier's troubled homecoming.

Shattered physically and emotionally by the war, Marine Sergeant Jenny Sutter (Brenda Banda) returns to the United States after a tour of duty in Iraq that resulted in an injury that becomes apparent in the first, drawn-out minutes of the play. Rocked by her nightmarish recollections of her time in battle, she is understandably apprehensive about resuming the life she once knew in Oceanside, California (where her mother is raising her children). Delaying her trip home as long as possible, she finds herself whiling away the hours at a bus station, where she meets an eccentric, scatter-brained stranger named Lou (Jennifer Ruckman), who instantly takes a liking to her. Trying to go cold turkey on, well, everything imaginable, the talkative Lou convinces the war vet to accompany her to Slab City, a makeshift community of nomads in the middle of a desert town (which we learn is a former military base as well). How fortuitous, then, this is for Jenny: to ease into her transition to civilian life by going from one desert to another. A life in flux—among ruins both structural and human—is better than facing personal demons, it seems.

Once there, Lou introduces Jenny to a few of the townsfolk with varying degrees of oddness... There's Buddy (Casey Long), the town's de-facto preacher and the object of Lou's not-quite-unrequited affections. Despite a physical deformity resulting from years of child abuse, Buddy has somehow found spiritual enlightenment, which he dispels via impromptu sermons atop raised concrete. We also meet Donald (Brandon Sean Pearson), a filthy, mess of a man whose apathy for everything hides internal struggles; and Lou's "psychiatrist" Cheryl (Karen Webster), a gypsy-hippie with a penchant for knitting. Much like Jenny, each of these supporting players know the bitterness of life's struggles. As one character explains—which becomes a central theme in the play in regards to dealing with the harsh tragedies of life—"Survival changes the rules."

In their collective irregularities, the citizens of Slab City have found a commonality, forming a friendly "family" of sorts. Though seemingly weird on the surface, these neighbors are amiable and welcoming to Jenny, whom they probably see as one of their own: a bit damaged, but not completely broken. Each has a go at getting through to Jenny as she makes every attempt to thwart anyone who dares get inside her head. Inside that head, as expected, are the harsh memories and frighteningly tragic flashbacks of a woman that suffered through battle. As the Slab City denizens continue to shower the soldier with kindness (including a hastily-organized 'Welcome Home' party), Jenny slowly puts down her guard.

The intermission-less 110-minute play, directed by the Chance Theater's co-founder and artistic director Oanh Nguyen, seems like a drama that needs further refining—like an out-of-town tryout that still requires a bit of polish. As a whole play, it has the feel of an outstretched short story, with gaps filled in by old-world gospel spirituals, wordy (though at time humorous) exchanges and occasional moments of silence. Creatively, though, it has the bones of what can possibly be a truly effective, heart-wrenching work, a mouthpiece that gives voice to a whole cross-section of a population that tragically shares the same 21st Century experience.

There are indeed plenty of standout moments, including the opening scene that introduces our title character, meticulously changing out of her marine trousers to put on a pair of jeans—in real time. Though initially appearing like a scene that's too long, the sequence, as it progresses, is actually quite an effective introduction to Jenny. That slice-of-life moment (coupled with her spoken-word monologue in the dark) speaks volumes of her newfound struggle as a person that cannot simply compartmentalize her Iraq experiences away—her injury is a constant reminder of her life from this point onward. This snail's pace approach, however, doesn't serve the rest of the play as well.

In addition to the opening sequence, some of Jenny's interactions with fellow Slab City residents are also interesting and full of funny, quirky moments that are sprinkled (though not generously enough) all throughout the play. Also noteworthy are the effective performances of Ruckman, Long and Pearson; each actor inhabits their characters with plenty of personality quirks and their presence on stage kept the play alive. Unfortunately, perhaps there may have been more of these secondary characters on stage than what the title suggests. In turn, the periphery characters subsequently chipped away most of Jenny's on-stage appearances, rendering the character only slightly above a supporting role. Thus, as the title character, Banda really gets to shine by the play's end, when the story calls for the actor to abandon emotionally-witheld subtly in favor of a passionate, deeply-felt epiphany. She, at last, breaks away the layers she has put on to quiet her tragic memories, and can finally come to terms with her new life, post-war. And much like the soldier portrayed in this play deserves our respect and admiration, this production can be commended for its brave and valiant efforts to dramatize an all-too-real situation many of our homebound service men and women are faced with in these uneasy times.

Grade: B-

Photo: Jennifer Ruckman (top) and Brenda Banda by Tanae Beyer.

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WELCOME HOME, JENNY SUTTER at The Chance Theater continues through May 16, 2010. Performances are on Friday & Saturday evenings at 8 pm; Saturday matinees at 3 pm; Sundays at 2 pm; Thursday evenings April 22 & May 13 at 8 pm. Tickets are priced $22 to $35. Discounts available for seniors and students. 2 free tickets are available for all active military, reservists, and veterans. The theater is located at 5552 E. La Palma Ave., Anaheim Hills, CA 92807.

For more information, call (714) 777-3033 or visit www.chancetheater.com.