Buried Child by Sam Shepard Presented by Actors Theatre of SF
BURIED CHILD by Sam Shepard
Reviewed by Jeffrey R Smith of the S.F. Bay Area Theatre Critics Circle
Actors Theatre of San Francisco is staging what arguably Sam Shepard's greatest theatrical achievement: BURIED CHILD.
There is no debating with the Obie Awards committee, nor the Pulitzer Prize judges, nor the Oscar Academy: Sam Shepard is perhaps the greatest living American active within the Acting Arts.
There exists a minimum of two versions of BURIED CHILD: the original which earned the Pulitzer Prize in 1979 and an updated version, retooled by Shepard, which barely survived two months on Broadway in 1996.
Fortunately, two of San Francisco greatest directors: Christians Phillips and Jennifer Welch, have opted for Coke Classic.
Typical of all Shepard plays, BURIED CHILD is focused on a rural family with enough dysfunctionality to turn twenty family homes into Bellevue Hospital wards.
As Tolstoy reminds us: "All good families are pretty much the same; it is the bad families which enjoy uniqueness."
The question is, what event or events turned this particular corn-husking family into a bevy of emotional zombies?
The title itself provides the most conspicuous clue: there is more planted in the back forty than corn, sorghum and soybeans.
While the alcoholic Dodge and his sanctimonious wife Halie own the expansive homestead, Tilden, their slow-witted but good-natured eldest son, Bradley, their mean spirited bully son, Vince, their hip jazz enthusiast grandson via Tilden, and Shelley, Vince's cute but ditzy girl friend, all seem to be morbidly drawn to the farm like crows to a road-kill possum or white corpuscles to an infection site.
As the story unfolds, it seems that things were pretty normal until Dodge and Halie were nearing the empty nest syndrome; then Halie took it upon herself to find lust in the corn belt while Dodge was, pardon the pun, falling down on the job.
An allusion is made, alleging that perhaps the Catholic Church was implicated.
Rarely does the Catholic Clergy date adults, but Shepard seems to allow for the possibility.
Father Lewis, no stranger to the bottle himself, and unafraid to call into question his standing within the community, takes Halie on over-night excursions.
Perhaps these excursions are retreats or vigils, but Father Lewis does distinguish himself as a possible suspect for the stray DNA showing up in Halie's last child.
It seems that Dodge is a little slow to take action against the half brother of Tilden and Bradley: just as the boys get attached to the little tyke and Dodge decides to take action.
The shared and collective guilt of the heinous, unreported crime is allowed to fester until the family is driven mad.
The play explores what may be an interesting gray zone in American morality: had Dodge and Halie elected to abort the third party fetus, early term, would Shepard have had the grist for a play?
Perhaps only the evangelical right would have the answer to that polemic.
Rightfully, Actors Theater has plans to run BURIED CHILD through July 12th.
You have every good reason to see it: the acting is superb and the script is completely restored.
For tickets call the box office at 415-345-1287.
The theater is at 855 Bush, up down from Mason.
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