Probably the chief significance of Stranded on Earth is that Eric Coble says he wrote it to fill in the gap between his somewhat successful play, A Girl’s Guide to Coffee about a bright, lively girl called Alex, and his The Velocity of Autumn, about Alexandra at 80, facing the loss of her home and family and life. Autumn was much praised at its premiere at Arena Stage in D.C. in September, and it will open on Broadway next month with its prestigious original cast of Estelle Parsons and Stephen Spinella. We thought that Parsons left her impressive short role in the musical, Nice Work if You Can Get It on Broadway last fall because it was demanding for a woman of 86. In fact, she was moving on to a much more demanding starring role in The Velocity of Autumnplaying an 80 year old who is onstage for virtually the entire play.
So Stranded on Earth lets us see Alexandra as Alexa, a woman in her 40s, who has made basic commitments but, Coble says, “she’s still wrestling with her choices.” Alexa is a brilliant artist, but we’re told that hers is a “life held in suspension . . . [which] “flashes between the mundane chaos and poetic depths of her world, circling in on the moment when everything changed for her – the moment between Before and After.” [That quotation shows up in every comment I’ve read on this play.
What we see and hear is a woman talking uninterrupted for over an hour about the mysterious terrible thing that happened to her and changed her life. Apparently, the clouds above lowered and kept descending, cutting out the light so that life all around seemed to stop. And like that. I kept suspecting that a nosy neighbor could have explained to us in less than two sentences what actually happened to Alexa. But after the long monologue is over and we leave the theater, we still don’t know.
It’s deep and poetic, see? The imagery certainly has its commanding moments. And Alexa’s nervous, then tentative, then surprised, excited, and nearly ecstatic reaction over the sharing and unity of the choice to work together to make things grow and attempt to create a new reality and art is not only uplifting but thrilling in the arc of Brigitt Markusfeld’s impressive performance. She moves from torment to commitment infectiously. But WHO is joining in? And commitment to commitment itself, or is anything actually happening? We see her pushing sand around the stage floor. Does that action provide meaning enough?
I like suggestive, existential bits of expression. That’s why I read the scribbles on men’s room walls. But involving drama requires some details to chew over. After all and all and all this is said so fervently by Alexa, I’m not sure what Ms. Parsons can learn from it to play Alexandra at 80.
