DOWNSTATE CHALLENGES MOST BASIC ASSUMPTIONS
Bruce Norris’s regional premiere of Downstate, currently at Studio Theatre, brings us up close into the forbidden world of pedophiles and shockingly presents them as both pariahs and victims.
Emily Kester and Tim Getman
Granted, this provocative play isn’t for everyone and it’s difficult to sit through. It may even serve as a trigger for those with PTSD from such abuse. It’s definitely not a feel-good story but yet, isn’t a total tale of horror. It ultimately begs the question from Director David Muse: “Can our society and can our system of justice consider extending compassion, empathy, or forgiveness to the most loathed among us?” This play dares the audience to try to answer this question. It’s complicated, to say the least.
Stephen Conrad Moore, Richard Ruiz Henry, Kelli Blackwell, Jaysen Wright, Dan Daily
The play turns on its head what is normally expected–that we view the world solely through the eyes of those deemed victims by the legal system. By contrast, this story has us view the world through the eyes of the perpetrators.
Richard Ruiz Henry and Kelli Blackwell
The play’s premise is this: Four convicted sex offenders share living space in a halfway home in downstate Illinois after serving prison time. Their current existence feels like The Twilight Zone–how long will they have to live out their extended sentences in a type of purgatory that requires them to wear ankle monitors and restricts their participation in society? They’re banned from using the Internet, smartphones, cars, and cable TV. They are required to keep a certain distance from schools and playgrounds, which prohibits them from using a convenient bus service and grocery store.
Stephen Conrad Moore and Tim Getman
The play’s convicts don’t follow a certain stereotype; they’re all unique and differ in how they navigate their existence. Fred (Dan Daily) is an elderly, soft-spoken, seemingly harmless grandfather type who sexually abused his former piano students and is now confined to an electric wheelchair after being physically assaulted in prison. He genuinely regrets abusing his victims. He contrasts sharply with the angry and boisterous Geo (Jaysen Wright), who claims his offenses were lesser than his housemates’ and that soon he will have completed his sentence. Muted Felix (Richard Ruiz Henry) self-isolates in his room and mourns the loss of his relationship with his daughter who he raped. Dee (Stephen Conrad Moore), who defends his past relationship with a male minor, plays the part of caretaker of the house, and in particular, Fred.
Irene Hamilton and Tim Getman
Their world is interrupted by the uninvited visit of one of Fred’s former victims: Andy (Tim Getman), who with his wife Em (Emily Kester) have come to demand that Fred sign a contract admitting to all of Fred’s transgressions. Andy confronting the mild-mannered, crippled senior forces us to wonder who is the real victim here. Can we judge which is which? Or do they both gain our sympathies?
Dan Daily and Tim Getman
Norris’s characters are nuanced and multi-faceted. Although undesirables, they all have their individual sob stories. I winced when Felix begged their strict parole officer Ivy (Kelli Blackwell) to let him visit his dying sister. “The only person who still loves me has cancer,” he pleads, to no avail. Meanwhile, Ivy busts Felix for using the library’s Internet to contact his daughter for her birthday. Our concern for Felix is tangible, albeit confusing. It doesn’t help that Ivy’s obvious disdain for the inmates comes across as unflinchingly coarse.
Tim Getman, Dan Daily, and Stephen Conrad Moore
Even Dee, who continues to claim his relationship with a minor was consensual, argues that his underage partner sent him love letters for six years when he was in prison. In Dee’s mind, he was in love.
Stephen Conrad Moore and Dan Daily
The dreariness of Alexander Woodward’s set matches the occupants’ lots in life, with well-worn secondhand furniture, one bathroom over which the characters squabble, a small galley kitchen, and a broken, boarded-up window that a neighbor vandalized and which the landlord won’t fix. Their house is confining and dismal, like the lives of its inhabitants.
Don’t expect a happy ending from Downstate, but its message is not completely dismal. If we can feel even a bit of compassion for these characters, maybe there’s some hope after all.
photos by DJ Corey
Downstate
Studio Theatre
Victor Shargai Theatre, 1501 14th Street NW in DC
2 hours 30 minutes with an intermission
ends on February 16, 2025
for tickets ($40-$95), visit Studio Theatre
