Paula Vogel's How I Learned to Drive, which has won a slew of prestigious drama awards including a l998 Pulitzer, explores the causes and effects of an incestuous relationship on the lives of a young girl (Li'l Bit) and her Uncle (Peck). Narrated by the l8-year-old Li'l Bit, the play presents multiple perspectives through a series of flashbacks spanning the 60s and 70s, which allow the viewer to construct their own understanding of what occurred. While Uncle Peck, it seems, taught his niece how to drive in the summer of her eleventh year and went well beyond the rules of the road, he is not painted as villain. Nor is Li'l bit blameless. Indeed, what could be a harrowing and depressing tale of child seduction and sexual abuse is surprisingly subtle and musing in tone thanks to Brechtian distancing devices that include slide projection act titles, songs, humorous monologues, sketches, choral recitations and minor actors playing multiple roles.
Yet, as edifying as the play is, one cannot help but wish for its speedy conclusion thanks to this slapdash, amateurish production of SUMMERFUN, New Jersey's oldest "professional" Summer repertory company. It is not difficult to glean SUMMERFUN'S overall objective in mounting this production -- which opens and closes a new play each week -- "the show must go on no matter what the artistic cost." The almost nonexistent set is an abysmal hodgepodge of old chairs and tables from the scene shop. The actors, many of whom appear here summer after summer, are mostly of the "strut and fret' variety -- especially annoying in this respect is Mary Coburn (Aunt Peck); whereas, Dierdre MacNamara (Li'l Bit) plainly lacks acting experience and Patrick Turner (Uncle Peck) depth. Rebecca Strum's direction is little more than an attempt at blocking and timing.
Needless to say, the importance of Ms. Vogel's message is lost in this production, leaving one to wonder if How I Learned to Drive hasn't won top honors because of the timeliness of its subject matter and the cleverness of its structure rather than the greatness of its writing.