BWW Reviews: Top-Notch Performances Elevate Brilliant GOOD PEOPLE in La Mirada
By: Michael L. Quintos Sep. 30, 2014
When we first meet Margaret (played with intense ferocity by Katie MacNichol), the outspoken, polarizing center of Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright David Lindsay-Abaire's thoughtful, riveting character study GOOD PEOPLE (now at the La Mirada Theater for the Performing Arts through October 12), we are but flies on the wall witnessing a very cringe-worthy scene that finds this middle-aged, over-stressed lady arguing with her much younger boss, Stevie (Wyatt Fenner) in some back alley behind the local Dollar Store where they both work.
Stevie struggles to get a word in edge-wise as the manic Margaret---or Margie, actually, as she's more commonly known in her heavily blue-collar, South Boston neighborhood---continues to yammer on like a frantic chicken with its head cut off. Finally, after hearing excuse after excuse, Stevie is able to interject long enough to tell her that she is... yikes... fired.
As one would expect from the often unfiltered, tough-as-steel woman with everything to lose, Margie doesn't take the news well. At all.
But Stevie has his reasons, foremost of which is that Margie is consistently late to her job. Thus, this twenty-something supervisor feels that he had no other course of action left but to let her go, even if it clearly pains the kind-natured boy to do so. For her part, Margie is quick to paint herself a victim, blaming other people and other circumstances for her troubles. She even resorts to the occasional racial slur (!) or disparaging put-down to get her "points" across.
As the awkwardness intensifies, it's clear that she's an absolutely desperate woman doing---or, rather, saying---all she can to fight for her job. After all, these are really tough times, so she's understandably in panic mode by the prospect of unemployment, especially here in South Boston---a place that's not exactly easy to escape.
Undeterred, she does her best to convince Stevie to reverse his decision---everything from bargaining for a pay cut, to pleading for some compassion for her harsh home life. Heck, she even insults him and threatens a little blackmail (gosh, such a nice lady, this one is...)
Her unyielding desperation is so profound, that it's almost hard to watch someone grovel so shamelessly. But, alas, her excessive pleas fail to change Stevie's (and, by proxy, his bosses') mind, even as he's offering to do all he can to scout around town for other job prospects for her.
It's a discouraging scene that, sadly, occurs far too often these days as many Americans---particularly in the hardest hit blue-collar centers of the US---are similarly mired in a constant struggle against poverty and dire living conditions, thanks to our still recovering national economy. Jobs, even the low-paying ones, are harder to secure (and keep), particularly with so many individuals battling to get the few positions that are available at all.
Of course, in Margie's case, her fears of complete financial collapse are more than warranted.
Not only has she been living paycheck-to-paycheck---barely able to pay off her rent and mounting bills---but, also, she is an exhausted single mom raising a grown, mentally-challenged daughter on her own. Oh... plus---as we have learned during her pink-slip talk with Stevie---Margie is further disadvantaged by the fact that she doesn't seem to have a disciplined work ethic, any verbal filters, nor any useful, discernible skills.
Naturally, this churns in Margie a hopelessness about her low-brow, low-rent environment---which seems to have long ago pre-determined for her a life full of repetitive disappointments, low-income jobs, and hard-to-reach dreams. Those with some smarts, some useful skill, maybe some connections, or, heck, even a bit of luck were able to get out.
But for the many more that do stay behind like Margie and the many hard-ass people "blessed" with such a tough life, all they can resort to on a daily basis is to do their best to endure. They accept the hand they have been dealt with and continue to grow the thick skin that's needed for a life in South Boston---even if their complaints are constantly on blast.
So despite feeling "trapped" in this life, Margie is nonetheless a proud, born-and-bred "Southie," and would defend and fight---verbally, of course---for her ilk if necessary (and, as expected, she certainly has a dislike for anyone who not only disparages the Southie life but also those whom she feels have decided to abandon the neighborhood for a better one).
We soon learn that besides struggling to make ends meet, Southie life for Margie also includes trading barbs, gossip, and insults with her equally spunky, tell-it-like-it-is neighborhood buddies Jean (Gigi Bermingham) and Dottie (Anne Gee Byrd)---who provide much of the welcome comic relief in the play. The much older, hilariously foul-mouthed Dottie, by the way, also happens to be Margie's landlady---but their friendship doesn't necessarily mean Margie gets a pass on paying the rent.
On many a Saturday night, you may find the three women spending what little cash they have playing bingo at the local church, a safe-enough space to win a little bit of money and to forget their own troubles for a bit while reveling and giggling about the troubles of others. And surprise... how adorable! It appears even young Stevie likes to play bingo here, too, despite its out-of-nowhere implication that bingo playing makes him a homosexual (apparently Southies unapologetically speak their mind, so we're meant to excuse their unfiltered epithets of different races, orientations, and salary brackets).
As Margie grapples with her next move (not in bingo but in life), Jean strikes up the idea for Margie to look up her old high school boyfriend Mike (Martin Kildare), a former Southie that done good. He's now a prominent, well-to-do doctor who has just recently moved back to Boston, albeit in the much more ritzy neighborhood of Chestnut Hill.
Desperate for a job---that is, anything better than an assembly line job at the Gillette factory---Margie decides to pop into Mike's office unannounced to confront him about his hoity-toity success and to maybe implore his sense of loyalty to the old neighborhood and help her find a good job with either himself or maybe with one of his filthy rich pals.
Predictably, the spontaneous reunion is a bucket full of awkward. Mike, of course (you can tell right away), would rather not have anything to do with Margie or the life he left behind 30-plus years ago---something Margie needles him for in the most off-putting way. Despite her intrusiveness and unprovoked insults, her cunning ways eventually wear down Mike's guilt (part of me feels he just wanted her to shut up and leave), and coaxing an invite to a party at his house, in the hopes that he can, perhaps, introduce her casually to someone at the party who may have a need to fill a job vacancy.
"You're good people, Mike," assures Margie, after getting her desired result.
It is then you start to realize... what exactly makes one "good people?" Is it how one swallows their pride and turns the other cheek in favor of doing a solid for another person, particularly one less-fortunate?
Many of us would like to think, in an optimistic, glass-half-full kind of way, that most people are inherently good. Most people try do the right thing---obey rules, not offend anyone, and even be kind and civil to one another. But truth be told, most of us strive for an unattainable perfect ideal, but end up somewhere straddling the middle---particularly if we convince ourselves into thinking that there is minimal risk or harm to others or, in extreme cases, if one's very survival is tested .
For Margie---whose life has forever been entrenched in struggle and just "getting by"---is being a "good person" the act of going to whatever lengths to secure survival? For the survival of one's child? Or is it the act of looking at the big picture and sacrificing one's happiness for the livelihood of another?
Does doing the right thing mean doing a little wrong, too?
As the play progresses along, these are the important questions that become tested along the way.
That forced invite to Mike's house in Chestnut Hill sets off a captivating, altogether gut-punching second half of GOOD PEOPLE, thrusting Mike and her pleasantly congenial wife Kate (the utterly spellbinding Sophia Brown) right smack in the middle of Hurricane Margie. The entire encounter---from the initial surprise, the awkward pleasantries, the stilted half-truths, and, eventually, to the devastating revelations---all amount to one of the most engrossing exchanges pitting class warfare set within a modern day drama. And, boy, is it a doozy!
A fascinating character exposé from beginning to end, GOOD PEOPLE is quite a brilliant dramatization of the class divide, notably because no one in particular from either side of this economic and sociological fence comes as off as entirely "good" or necessarily "bad" (except perhaps the play's most favorable character Kate, the lone "outsider" of the bunch who alone isn't pre-tainted with past regrets or present shame).
Lindsay-Abaire's hyper-realistic, thickly-accented characters---so vividly embodied by this production's top-notch ensemble cast directed by Jeff Maynard---feel so authentic that even some of their more brazen, unabashed behavior comes off slightly endearing, especially with the safe barrier provided by the stage. That environmental and cultural authenticity is also carried over superbly to Stephen Gifford's set designs as well as Adriana Lambarri's costumes.
But of all the characters, Margie, most definitely, comes off quite grating at times---heck, for most of the play, I found the character annoyingly self-serving and detestable---which is a total testament to the excellent work showcased by MacNichol. Yet as Lindsay-Abaire starts to peel off the multiple layers that reveal why Margie is the way she is (the motivations of her seemingly horrible actions in the second act still struggle for justification), much of her character quirks start to soften a bit---but not completely---to reveal a complex, vulnerable woman whose roots of bitterness go deep---and for a reason. By the play's end it's difficult to simply distinguish her in an either/or slot.
Therein lies the intriguing yet frustrating dichotomy of Margie: she's both proud and stubborn---traits that often battle each other for dominance. She seems to be a hard-working woman, but apparently doesn't work hard enough to do everything she can to excel in a job or even keep it (in her defense, her life does really seem like a series of shit storms). She is easily incensed by---or perhaps jealous of---people who are living "comfortably" well and enjoy the "finer" things, but she has no problem with them as long as she personally benefits in some way. She can elicit our empathy, but has no qualms offending you with her closed-minded sentiments.
She's a hard woman to either fully hate or fully like... though, admittedly, I completely agree with Kate's eventual summation of Margie at the end of the play, which I won't dare spoil here in case you've yet to see this outstanding play.
Which brings me back to Brown and her exceptional portrayal of Kate. All I can say is... wow. From the moment she steps on stage, you are mesmerized by her character---the subtleties of her actions and the heaviness of her palpable emotions that she keeps in check (now that is class). Brown reflects the regal beauty and genuine goodness of her character so pointedly that it is hard to take your eyes off her. Kate, in the play, is fortuitous in that she's not plagued by predetermined thoughts or prejudices; she learns about individuals and their situations on the fly and judges them on their actions right then and there. Even as Margie goes off on tirades or begins to crumble in her own machinations, or as Mike panics with nervousness or explodes in pent-up anger, it is Kate that we look to for a reaction, a look, an answer, maybe some honest-to-goodness perspective---and thanks to Brown's performance, we certainly find that guiding light.
Perhaps, then, it is possible to sift through the bad and find the good.
Follow this reviewer on Twitter: @cre8iveMLQ
Photos from the McCoy/Rigby Entertainment presentation of GOOD PEOPLE by Michael Lamont. Top: Mike (Martin Kildare) and Margie (Katie MacNichol) have an awkward reunion.
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Performances of GOOD PEOPLE presented by McCoy-Rigby Entertainment at The La Mirada Theatre for the Performing Arts in the city of La Mirada, CA continue through Sunday, October 12, 2014. The theater is located at 14900 La Mirada Boulevard. Parking is Free.
For tickets, visit www.LaMiradaTheatre.com or call (562) 944-9801 or (714) 994-6310.
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