“Grand Concourse” at Seattle Public Theater

Faith Bennett Russell as Shelly. Photo by John Cornicello

Just as the Grand Concourse in The Bronx began as a magnificent boulevard and is now a distressed ribbon of concrete in a down and out part of that borough, the characters in “Grand Concourse” have fallen into bad times. Directed here by Annie Lareau, the play raises some interesting questions, most importantly, what are the limits of what we can do for others?

Shelley (well played by Faith Bennett Russell) is a nun who wears street clothes and lives a secular life. She runs the soup kitchen (designed by Jenny Littlefield) in which this entire play is situated and has begun to question the worth of her commitment. These doubts are something she talks to God about, limiting her discussions to timed intervals marked off by a microwave acting as an alarm clock.

Helping her is Oscar, the jivey, laid back, can-do Dominican young man who does the heavy lifting and chases away the neighborhood hoodlums. The captivating Tyler Trerise gives him loads of charm. He’s a good natured “Johnny on the spot” who lights up the set whenever he saunters in. Yet Oscar, too, is not without his moral quandary. For him it’s a question of love vs. lust.

Frog, the alcoholic, schizophrenic street person benefitting from the kitchen, helps out whenever he can. His is a complex character. He’s an educated man who hasn’t always been down-and-out, one who appears to be able to control his life but sadly can’t. Corey McDaniel plays him with subtlety.

These three have their little world in reasonable order when Emma (Hannah Ruwe) walks in. She’s sweet; she’s needy; she wants to help; she’s evidently undergoing cancer treatments. They bring her into their tight little circle. Sadly, in many ways she turns out to be the snake in the garden, such as it is. Hers is a role with many dimensions and she does it all well.

The acting here is noteworthy, and the set is effective. Yet the production seemed a bit static, in need of an emotional boost. That said, you will leave pondering the question of what are the limits of compassion?

Through June 11 at Seattle Public Theater, 7312 West Green Lake Dr. N, Seattle, (206) 524-1300 or seattlepublictheatre.org.

Leave a Reply