Stunning visuals and overall lyricism overshadows its core in storytelling
Currently performing at the Marylebone Theatre, The Wanderers is an American transfer directed by Igor Golyak, a winner of four Off Broadway awards, and is performed by an ensemble of five stellar cast members. It tells the story of two couples living in Brooklyn, whose seemingly unrelated stories gradually reveal a closely-knitted bond.
The play opens with a poetic, non-speaking sequence that immediately sets its lingering, poetical quality. The character’s writing on the set—featuring a neon light, a “glass” board, and “glass” tables and chairs—makes the opening powerfully resonant. The narrative then shifts into an almost cinematic style, with two main storylines unfolding polyphonically on stage: one follows a newlywed couple, and the other an esteemed writer and his wife.
The form the play takes is absolutely beautiful. Each section is introduced by characters doodling on the central glass board. The story’s structure and “chapters” are written there as the play progresses, with drawings related to the scene being added and transformed. Gradually, these images construct a world of their own, which is eventually poured over and erased. This choice of writing and re-writing not only reflects the profession of the main character, Abe (played by Alexander Forsyth), but also the play’s central theme: how much can we write or rewrite our own stories, and how much do we fictionalize reality in our minds to survive?
The play presents a story about the passing down of fate and trauma through generations (“children are the product of their parents,” as claimed in the show), while also exploring the theme of fantasizing reality. It plays with the boundaries between reality and fiction, as the two characters in the book are later revealed to be Abe’s parents, while a real fictional plot unfolds in Abe’s own life. A first-half discussion between Abe and Julia (portrayed by Anna Popplewell), a charming movie star he becomes obsessed with, about “re-seeing” their partners becomes deeply ironic in light of the second half’s revelations. The twist also asks the question: how much reality can we truly take?
Together with the set and scene curation, the writing itself bleeds a deep lyricism. Many first-half monologues possess a peculiar literary quality, and since they are meant to be the content of the main character’s book, they resonate beautifully within the space. However, as the play continues, the form begins to outweigh the content, and the drama gives way to an overarching poetical quality. The play’s formal choices pull one out of the story especially in the second half: during many scenes with arguments, the characters are simultaneously busy writing or erasing text from the board or furniture, which drains the tension from the scene.
Similarly throughout the play, any scenes feel as though the chemistry is not yet found, making conflicts and dramatic points feel unearned and off the mark.
Since the audience sees the stories almost exclusively through Abe’s perspective—and sometimes his fantasies, a male-centric fantasy—his scenes often carry a strong sense of objectification toward both Julia and his wife, Sophie (played by Paksie Vernon). For a non-male audience member, the incentive and obsession among these three characters can feel frivolous. As one of the central contention in the play, the triangular fails to anchor the story for me.
The Wanderers proves itself with stunning visuals and poetical writing, yet its compelling themes of heritage and fantasy are ultimately overshadowed by a form that outweighs its core in storytelling.
Photos by Mark Senior.