“Fabulation, or, the Re-Education of Undine” – Written by Lynn Nottage. Directed by Dawn M Simmons. Presented by The Lyric Stage Company of Boston, 140 Clarendon Street, Boston through October 9.
by Michele Markarian
There’s nothing yielding or hesitant about the seemingly unstoppable Undine (Lyndsay Allyn Cox), owner of a boutique public relations agency with high-profile clients in New York. She speaks to her assistant Stephie (Brittani Jenese McBride) brusquely, brushes off the warnings of her accountant (Barlow Adamson), and seems unconcerned about the flight of her suave and sexy husband, Herve (Jaime José Hernández). Undine’s self-centeredness gets kicked up a notch when she realizes that Herve has absconded with all of their money and she’s unexpectedly pregnant. With her office, apartment and bank accountant liquidated, Undine has nowhere left to go but home – to the family in Brooklyn that she claimed had died in a fire fourteen years ago. Undine’s real name is Sharona; she chose Undine when she renounced her family, in an admiring nod to the social climbing Undine Sprague in Edith Wharton’s novel Custom of the Country. Unlike Wharton’s ruthless Undine, Nottage’s Undine finally learns gratitude and humility, after an unfortunate series of events brought on by her own ambition.
Undine’s family – mother (Shani Farrell), father (Damon Singletary), brother (Sharmarke Yusuf), and grandmother (Dayenne CB Walters) – take her return in stride. After an attempt to score some heroin for her grandmother gets her busted, Udine is forced to join a Narcotics Anonymous group. She experiences what it’s like to file fruitlessly for public assistance, as well as becoming the object of pity and disdain of other Black women. Yet nothing seems wounded, except maybe her pride – Undine remains caustic and superior throughout these misadventures. If only she had appeared a little more vulnerable, the happy ending and welcome return of the prodigal daughter would have felt more earned.
But Nottage has written a satire, not a kitchen sink drama, and the play’s strength lies in its humor. Cox is a smart performer, whose biting commentary and droll delivery is laugh out loud funny. Aided by Simmons’ fluid direction and an excellent supporting cast, Undine’s attitude toward her descending fortune seems more like an observer rather than a participant. Given how far she’s fallen, who can blame her?
The seven-member supporting cast, playing multiple roles, only add to the fun. When Undine consults a Yoruba priest (an exuberant Singletary), who throws the stones down with a gleeful series of warbles, I thought I would never stop laughing (credit goes to Cox for managing to keep a straight face). Farrell has a nice turn as Undine’s friend Alice, who is donning a fake British accent in an attempt to emulate Eartha Kitt (“I’m making bold social choices”). And at her NA meeting – which is funny in itself, considering Undine does not do drugs – Adamson, as a former addict, hilariously executes a monologue about crack cocaine that made me long for the 80s. This prompts Cox, deadpan, to let us know that “…in the midst of his loathsome confession, I’m actively finding myself strangely curious to smoke crack cocaine”.
Jenna McFarland Lord’s deceptively stark set, aided by Michael Clark Wonson’s colorful lighting design, easily transforms itself into whatever landscape Undine finds herself traveling in – a Manhattan party, her parents’ home in Brooklyn, an NA meeting room. While Undine/Sharona is an unlikely Pilgrim, her road home is paved with cleverness and humor, and for that alone, it’s worth seeing. For tickets and information, go to: https://www.lyricstage.com/
