By Ciara LaVelle
By Jose D. Duran
By Kat Bein
By Juan Barquin
By Ciara LaVelle
By George Martinez
By Kat Bein
By Ciara LaVelle
The play tells the story of Nick (John D'Aquino), the grandson of four Italian immigrants, who is climbing his way to the top of the ladder as an advertising executive in New York City. Despite his busy schedule, Nick finds the time every Sunday to take the bus into Hoboken, New Jersey, to have dinner with his maternal grandparents, Frank and Aida (Arland Russell and Harriet Oser), and his paternal grandparents, Nunzio and Emma (Tom Troupe and Elayne Wilks). One Sunday Nick announces he has been awarded a promotion requiring him to move to Seattle and has decided to take it. This sets off a harebrained scheme on the part of his grandparents. In a desperate attempt to keep him from moving, they invite Caitlin (Lara MacGregor), the unmarried niece of Emma's canasta partner, to Sunday dinner, hoping that Nick will fall in love with her and stay put. An innovative plot is not this play's strength, although DiPietro does manage to throw in a couple of surprises and steer clear of a fairy-tale ending. This is quite an accomplishment, considering that the play is rather like a television sitcom.
Over the River and Through the Woods dramatizes a conflict to which almost any American can relate: Even if we are not the children or grandchildren of immigrants, we are the children and grandchildren of people whose values are very different from our own. This play explores the Italian version of the clash. The set, by Tim Bennett, could hardly be more working-class Italian American. Its focal point is an overstuffed couch with an afghan thrown across it, and we also see the Catholic icons: statues of the Virgin Mary and Jesus with his Sacred Heart and a bad replica of Leonardo's Last Supper hanging over the dining room table. The set doesn't change, but a screen door and front porch step on stage right confer some versatility and allow for private dialogues.
Nick must confront the deeply held belief that, because family is the most important thing (the Italian credo "Tengo famiglia" sounds throughout the script), all decisions should be made accordingly. But he's a modern man. It is obvious to Nick that success does not lie in marrying young, working in a factory to provide for his family, and spending his entire life with one person, as he explains to his grandparents when he loses his temper over their matchmaking scheme. "Today we do things different," he lectures them. "We don't marry at eighteen. We have careers and make money, and then we pick and choose a person very carefully, and we do it when we're good and ready!" Later, in a much different tone, he explains a long-distance relationship to his grandfather: "It's called a commuter relationship, Gramps, and it's very annoying."
DiPietro does not oversentimentalize -- no mean feat with one or more Italian-American grandparents onstage much of the time. He manages to maintain the Italian flavor we expect (the cheek-pinching, the constant "You look hungry," the "When are you going to get married?") without making it seem stereotypical. The script is filled with truly funny anecdotes from the grandparents' past and current lives. These are not just any grandparents; these are Nick's grandparents, specific people with their own idiosyncrasies.
The cast, a talented and highly experienced troupe, brings out the relationships among the four grandparents as well as the balance among the grandparents and Nick. The man-to-man talks that Nick has with each grandfather, for example, help to modulate the stage activity from funny to relatively serious while enhancing the characters' individualities. The drama also has several freeze-frame moments when the action stops and one character delivers a monologue. These prove to be excellent vehicles for Nick's dry, sarcastic humor.
John D'Aquino's way of striking an almost catatonic pose, setting his jaw, and staring off at some fixed point in space is hilarious when juxtaposed with the foursome of enthusiastic, well-meaning, but annoying elders fluttering around him. In a show like this, the goal is not to go all the way over the top, and Nick's character is the anchor that keeps the play from becoming Italian slapstick. D'Aquino's straight face, deadpan responses, and barely restrained anger allow the drama to move forward when it could have gotten stuck in a mire of lasagna, genuflection, neighborhood gossip, and tales of old Italy.
The character of Caitlin contributes to the balance between old and young but also provides a fresh perspective on family, age, and tolerance. Caitlin is much more open to elderly people than Nick is. When the grandparents bring up the fact that Nick chewed on his rattle as a baby and announce that he is seeing a "head doctor," she smiles and admits she too goes to therapy. She rejects Nick's invitation to dinner because she doesn't like his impatience with his grandparents. Then, having walked off stage, she comes back to add, "I want you to know that's probably the most mature thing I've ever said." Caitlin's self-effacing, slightly gawky humor is charming in a strong performance by Lara MacGregor. Although her actual stage time is significantly less than the other actors', her part rounds out the cast. Caitlin may be young and pretty and smart, but the most compelling aspect of her role is that she seems very real.