Dysfunctional Theatre Company
Treehouse Theater, NYC, March 19—April 4, 2015
Genetic manipulation and mechanical intelligence and mobility in spacetime feel like a day at the office anymore, and for the central character of Making History, the last one of those is literally his job. A scientist at a secret government-funded time-travel lab, Patrick Tyler is no world-conquering mastermind but just one of many anonymous modern professionals seeing what he might do because he can.
He goes a long way for the simple pleasures such sci-fi characters usually realize too late were all they needed — and for more of it than anyone needs, with one family each in 1987 and 2019. No hilarity ensures, as playwright Mim Granahan gets a good sense of loss out of the very essence of Patrick’s circumstance; home is where he’s going, but never coming, as Sarah Kirkland Snider would say. Director Eric Chase choreographs the double-spiral of past and future swirling around Patrick (a great fraying everyman performance by Cory Boughton) in a clever and melancholy, ghostly way, with figures from the man’s two lives and different phases of their own often sharing the same space but only seen by him.
Patrick’s one-man mission-control on each end, Freddie (a humane and conflicted Adam Files) in 2019 and Alvin (a kindly, crazy, insightfully awkward Rob Brown) in 1987, are fearful for his safety but unable to resist his discoveries. The domestic wreckage of his disappearances from one period to the other (in painfully real time) are played out with a close-focus compassion rare to pop science-fiction theatre, especially well-portrayed by Melissa Roth as his disillusioned wife in the 1980s and Erik Olson as his traumatized teen son in the 2010s.
The story comes to pivot not on the one character who shifts between two times, but on the one who survives them the way the rest of us have to, Patrick’s now grown up daughter from the ’80s, Harmony (a powerful portrait of contained hurt and incandescent intellectual curiosity by Amy Overman). The defining moment of the story, a La Jetée-esque convergence of Patrick’s two lives centered on a memory he and Harmony impossibly share, is heartbreakingly played by Boughton and Overman and best left to be discovered by viewers (the show runs through April 4).
It bookends a slightly rushed but inevitably necessary act of sacrifice by Harmony, which closes the circle on this fable of elders who see no alternative to doing the wrong thing and new generations who see, and get, no choice but to do what’s right. A moral to care for each other, because the future, unseeing, will take care of itself.