Theater Review | 'Newtown' 

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Catastrophe can turn a place's identity into the worst thing that’s happened there: Columbine, Parkland, Aurora.

Geva Theatre Center's world premiere “Newtown,” which runs through May 12, is centered on the mass shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary in Newtown, CT on December 14, 2012 — a day in which one man killed his mother, 20 school children, six adult school staff members and himself. The most obvious question in the face of such trauma is “how could this have happened?”

Geva's Artistic Director Elizabeth Williamson helms a 90-minute rumination of this unanswerable question. The play consists of two parts, each imagining fictional conversations inspired by real people. Playwright Dan O’Brien’s research draws heavily from “An Unseen Angel” by Alissa Parker, a memoir written by the mother of one of the murdered children, and a New Yorker profile on the gunman’s father, Peter Lanza.

Fictionalized versions of both these people appear in the play, with names and details changed (Parker’s child, for example, is now a son rather than a daughter). In the first part, Sarah (played by Kellie Overbey) addresses the audience as though talking to her mute son. She stands alone in her not-very-cozy living room, which consists of a couch with pillows and a side table in front of blue curtains (scenic design by Nick Vaughan); she's wearing business casual gray pants and a blue blouse (costume design by Ilona Somogyi).

Sarah doesn’t know why her grown son isn’t talking to her, and because he won’t open up she talks (and talks), gradually revealing disturbing information about her son as she encourages his obsession with guns and confronts him about an inappropriate online conversation with an underage girl. Though the monologue is exposition heavy (including a gratuitous tangent where Sarah recounts other mass killings from printed notes in her hand), Overbey portrays genuine yearning and desperation for her son to open up. The unsettling tension of this extended prologue relies on the audience knowing that her son will murder both her and 26 strangers the following day.

The second part of the play takes place weeks after the massacre. The set shifts to a simple, bleak school conference room, where a table sits under a hanging fluorescent light. Other than a Keurig machine to the side and a panel of black windows stretched behind them, there’s nothing to distract from the conversation about to fill the second part of the play.

While praying one day, Naomi (played by Kate Abbruzzese), the Mormon mother of one of the murdered schoolchildren, heard a voice telling her to talk to the father of the gunman who killed her son. She and her husband Ethan (Max Chernin) arrange a meeting with Matthew (Jonathan Walker), who agrees, because how could he deny a request like that? They have all lost their sons — Naomi and Ethan’s at the hands of Matthew’s.

It’s any parent’s worst nightmare, and the awkwardness is made palpable through the cast’s convincing body language. Abbruzzese as Naomi is understandably grieved, maintaining a pinched face and keeping on her coat and scarf because she cannot get warm. Chernin as Ethan is the ultimate people pleaser, attempting to make small talk and helping Matthew unscrew his Xanax bottle when the latter's fingers shake too much to manage it himself. Walker’s Matthew is stiff and uncomfortable. He explains he has always suspected he’s autistic, and that he has a hard time reading emotional cues.
The credibility of the characters diminishes as they have nothing to do but rehash the tragedy and the media’s talking points around it. Details of the killer’s life (already laid out in the opening monologue) are speculated as possible reasons for his violence: the parents' divorce? An unknown molestation? Video games? Neurodivergence? Thankfully, there’s an autistic character onstage to quickly correct that harmful misconception.

It’s hard to imagine an audience member of “Newtown” who isn’t already sympathetic to the case for stricter gun control legislation, but just in case, Naomi describes, in excruciating detail, the horrors of the day made possible by a legally purchased assault weapon. Though all the characters are proud Republicans, they swiftly agree that yes, of course laws will change because of this event.

“Newtown” invites audiences to reflect on how horrible the event was, then cycles through reactionary talking points like a Facebook comments thread enacted onstage, culminating with the characters coming together for something resembling a moment of acceptance. It’s an upsetting play, but it’s never quite as impactful as it wants to be. With the exception of a detail about their son’s callouses from drawing, the victims are reduced to a list of names tearfully recited. Meanwhile, we learn as much about the unnamed killer as we do about any of the characters onstage.

The play says it best through Naomi's character: “I’m sick of trying to solve the mystery of what he did and why. I would rather be talking about the children.”

The audience was very quiet leaving the theater on opening night — there’s not much to say after spending over an hour forced to contemplate why someone would murder children. But disturbing subject matter does not equal a compelling night of theater, and when it comes to contributing something new to the conversation, “Newtown” rehashes the same old thoughts and prayers.

"Newtown" runs through May 12 at Geva. More info and tickets here.

Katherine Varga is a contributor to CITY.