Lanford Wilson’s Burn This is a moody, delicate piece of writing that in many ways, behaves more like a chamber quartet—or a dance—than a play. Constructed of themes and variations on loss, grief and the renewing power of love, it speaks directly to the heart. That’s a difficult thing to get right, but all of the elements align in a revival by Michaela Productions, in rented space at the Odyssey Theatre. What’s more, the time is again right for this piece. When introduced at the Mark Taper Forum in 1987, the play indirectly addressed the sadness that had descended on America with the AIDS crisis. Today, it quietly speaks to the losses of Sept. 11. The death that propels the play’s action is nothing so pervasive or catastrophic. It’s just the everyday variety, which sends every life it touches into a tailspin. A gifted young dancer and his lover have been killed in a boating accident—a loss that hits his roommate and dance collaborator Anna (Christina Carlisi) particularly hard. She is surrounded by kind, sensitive men—her other roommate, Larry (David Brouwer), and her rich, too-perfect boyfriend, Burton (Blake Boyd)—who try to joke or comfort away her pain. But it isn’t until the dead dancer’s older brother, Pale (Dean Biasucci), bursts into Anna’s life that she connects with someone whose emotions are as raw as her own. Director Jessica Kubzansky and her actors infuse each passage with subtle shades of meaning. In a wonderfully appropriate touch, this production incorporates bits of modern dance to illustrate Anna’s feelings and to allow the audience to see, not just hear about, the piece she has created in response to what has happened. The choreography—which suggests togetherness and separation, attraction and repulsion—is by Kitty McNamee. The action feels right at home in Yael Pardess’ design for a tall-windowed loft space in lower Manhattan, while Jeremy Pivnick’s lighting infuses the sky beyond those windows with the pinkish-blue dawn of new hope. —DARYL H. MILLER

Reviewed by Adelina Anthony

Lanford Wilson’s play deals with unexpected death and love, two great challenges of life that can either destroy us or become fodder for personal growth or art as exemplified by this contemporary work. Where other productions tend to portray characters trapped in solely the extreme emotions of this drama, this current production mines the gamut of human emotion. Under the obviously imaginative, focused, and masterful direction of Jessica Kubzansky, this production emits everything from a steady warmth to searing passions. The highly gifted ensemble brings complex and believable sensibilities to each character.

It’s refreshing to watch an ensemble that makes the work look effortless. Christina Carlisi is Anna, woman in mourning for her friend Robbie and a dancer facing a career transition; Carlisi balances her performance with intense inner monologues and vivid exchanges with the other performers. David Brouwer as Larry and Blake Boyd as Burton, Anna’s friends, turn in performances that transform Anna’s tense situations into comic or sympathetic moments. But try as they might these two can’t wholly protect Anna from her fated confrontations with Pale, Robbie’s brother, played here with bravado, quick charm, and depth by Dean Biasucci.

Kubzansky moves the story and the characters with fluidity and a finely attuned sense of pacing. She’s left her personal mark on this production by creating very apt and precious moments with a pair of dancers (Candy Olsen and Preston Mui) who dramatize the dance world the protagonist and deceased were immersed in. More important, the play is allowed to breathe. The quiet moments of this work simmer with internal conflict, and it is then that we realize characters are making emotional leaps right before our eyes; it’s like watching seagulls silently circle the sky above the din and roar of the city.

Many of Kubzansky’s compositions are striking against the hypnotic set of Yael Pardess, whose design is dominated by enormous loft windows. The original music by James McVay and sound design by Steve Goodie captures the rhythms of a bohemian city; and the lighting design by Jeremy Pivnick is both realistic and mystical—like this production.

Lanford Wilson’s edgy seriocomedy Burn This is no stranger to Los Angeles stages, but the current revival at the Odyssey is better than most, with its understated portrait of despairing souls seeking emotional serenity. Unlike some previous productions of this searing piece, the harsh emotional landscape is thankfully not pushed toward melodrama. It evolves organically from subtle nuances of interpretation. Director Jessica Kubzansky and a team of insightful actors and designers bring out Wilson's disturbing and profound themes. The play explores the challenges of coping with the loss of loved ones and the sometimes terrifying risks of committing our love to other imperfect humans, while coming to terms with our own frailties. The action commences following the death of a young gay dancer, as his roommates—Anna, his dance partner (superbly played by Christina Carlisi), and Larry (David Brouwer), a sardonic gay advertising designer—think about the funeral proceedings and attempt to ease their pain with gentle humor. Soon entering the scene is Burton, Anna's self-satisfied screenwriter boyfriend (a convincing Blake Boyd), who is clearly not the ideal match for his sensitive and more sophisticated girlfriend. But the character conflicts come full circle when the deceased roommate's brother arrives to pick up his belongings. Pale (Dean Biasucci) initially comes across as a bitter, volatile and generally obnoxious drunk, but we eventually see the pain and tenderness lurking beneath his bravado. Biasucci deftly conveys the character’s conflicting traits, wisely avoiding the too-dark interpretation often afforded to this role. The highly amusing Brouwer is to be commended for playing Larry as a flippant wit rather than a mincing queen, also a common mistake with this show. As Anna and Pale move toward an unlikely romantic alliance, all of the characters re-evaluate their lives and consider change. Yael Pardess’ sprawling loft apartment set is a character in itself with its rich attention to detail, especially the massive and majestic windows. Jeremy Pivnick’s lighting is also superb. This is an intelligent and moving rendition of a classic work from one of our finest contemporary playwrights. —Les Spindle