‘Liv at Sea’ Navigates Emotional Tsunamis in a Pitch Perfect Production

“Liv at Sea” — Written and directed by Robert Kropf. Presented by Harbor Stage Company at Boston Center for the Arts, 539 Tremont St., Boston, through January 28.

By Shelley A. Sackett

Who among us has never wondered about what our lives might have been like if, like Robert Frost’s famous protagonist, we had chosen the road less traveled when our path diverged into two? Did we choose wisely? Given the chance to relive that pivotal moment, would we again choose the security and comfort of the path we know or risk all on the thrill of the other, the unknown?

Liv (a remarkably lithe and captivating Paige O’Connor), the title character in Robert Kropf’s dazzling “Liv at Sea,” is at just such a crossroad in her young but disappointing life. She lives with Nick, her longtime boyfriend. The play opens mid-conversation in their apartment, as Liv tries to articulate that she is unhappy with her monotonous, monogamous life. Her demeanor is emotionless, her pale skin shiny in an eerie, extra-terrestrial way. Her heart is heavy, she tells Nick. She is so thirsty. She needs water, a lot of water, so much water that she can set herself adrift and let the sea deposit her onto a beach where she can finally breathe.

Nick (an excellent Nick Wilson) has no idea what she’s talking about. A teddy bear of a guy, Nick is a whirl of physical and verbal kinetic energy that makes Richard Dreyfuss look mellow by comparison. He is terrified of losing Liv. He can change. He will change. He loves her. He does not need adventure and the thrill of the unknown. He needs what he knows. He needs Liv not to rock the moored boat and to remain where she is.

He is also overbearing and needy in a way that is both heartbreaking and suffocating. It’s not hard to understand Liv’s agitation and desire to break free of her situation.

Finally, at his wit’s end and as if reading the audience’s mind, Nick asks if Liv has met someone. Turns out she has. His name is Jack (Jack Aschenbach), he is in a longtime relationship, and he, too, is ready to embark on the path untravelled.

Kropf stages Liv and Jack’s first encounter as a flashback. A year earlier, they glimpsed each other on the street. This was followed by a second encounter, conversation, and a splendid afternoon spent on an untethered, playful journey.

They share an ease and rapport that seems unforced and comforting. Yet, is it enough to warrant such an impulsive, radical change? Is THIS “it?” Does it matter?

O’Connor brings a chameleon-like radiance to the transformed Liv. With Nick, she is earthbound and hollow-eyed. When with Jack, she smiles with her entire being. Her eyes glitter and there is music in her voice.

They are two peas in a pod, each wondering whether their current domestic couplings are “it” or whether they are settling out of fear or laziness. Aschenbach brings a laissez-faire to Jack that is so intoxicating Liv doesn’t question why he won’t tell her his last name. It is all part of his infectious not-Nick charm.

Kropf doesn’t just shine as a playwright, with inciteful, thought-provoking, and moving dialogue. He is also a gifted director, and he brings a special vitality and cinematic creativity to this 90-minute intermission-less production. The first-rate minimalist set (Sara C. Walsh), excellent lighting (John Malinowski), video (Adam Foster), and sound (Joe Kenehan) designs create a breathtaking theatrical synergy.

Yet the real shining stars are the trio of actors who both ground and catapult the show. O’Connor is flawless as Liv, navigating her through choppy waters of guilt, uncertainty, anxiety, infatuation, and delight. Her slightest gestures pack a well-aimed, emotional wallop. Her eyes are right out of an Italian Renaissance painting, keyholes to her soul. Wilson (Nick) and Auerbach (Jack) are her perfect romantic foils: yin and yang, overbearing and tenuous, obvious and intangible. The choreography of artistry and empathy among these three is a rare pleasure to witness.

At the end of the day, whether Liv runs off with Jack or not (no spoilers here!) is not as important as the questions Kropf asks his characters and their audience. Is it enough just to be loved, or is that settling? Is the risk of the unknown worth it? Can you live with that risk? Are you truly alive without it? What is real and, perhaps most importantly, what does it matter?

For tickets, go to https://www.livatseabca.com/

4 thoughts on “‘Liv at Sea’ Navigates Emotional Tsunamis in a Pitch Perfect Production”

  1. “‘Liv At Sea” clearly deserves a much longer run and so do Boston theatre goers. How does such a remarkably unique and perfectly executed play live on beyond such a limited engagement?

    1. Totally agree Tim. I felt the same way about Theater Uncorked’s “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?” It may be best to contact the folks at Harbor Stage.

  2. Agreed! They need a producer to give them a more permanent Boston home! 3 months of the year, & perhaps secure for them a run in NY & LA, too!

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