Able-Bodied Seaman, The

Although theater history is unlikely to remember Alan Bowne’s The Able-Bodied Seaman, its author, in his all-too-short life, was able to carve a tiny place for himself there. Though Beiruit, A Snake in the Vein, Sharon and Billy, and Forty Deuce will stand as Bowne’s legacy, at least Seaman, his earliest drama, has some of the qualities that made him so briefly, and perhaps immortally, vital.

Granted, we’ve seen Roy (Robert LuPone) before. He’s your basic abusive, hard-drinking rageaholic who throws tantrums and then begs for pity because he only wants what’s best for his family—in this case, his newly flowering (and already deflowered) 16-year-old, Fay (Chelsea Altman). Before you can say A View from the Bridge, papa is hurling homophobic epithets at her arrogant boyfriend (Robert Floyd), mistreating Rita, his own long-suffering neighbor/girlfriend (Anita Gillette); and scheming to bilk the U.S. military out of $50,000 by offering perjured testimony in a negligence case.

While the first act, with its constant shouting, slamming, and smashing—at least in the current Manhattan Class Company production—can be a difficult sit, Bowne’s unvarnished world has a refreshing nakedness about it. Few plays make the humor that stems from desperate situations seem this realistic. Bowne, unlike nearly every other dramatist who ever lived, didn’t feel the need to soften his characters to make us care about them. Frankness—be it Fay’s pragmatism or Rita’s pathetic punching-bag mentality—usually wins out over empathy. What’s lacking, though, is clarity, as act two becomes a meandering affair with a maddeningly unresolved ending.

Surrounded by an exceptional cast (with Altman a standout as the insolent Fay), LuPone makes Roy loud and truly aggravating, yet somehow compelling in his need for a break. This is not a family one grows to love but one that, in art and life, is hard to avoid.