THEATER REVIEW: Temple Repertory Theater's Buried Child

With Buried Child, Shepard takes a critical look at the American family and shows it at its worst, leaving room for a little hope at the end.

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THEATER REVIEW: Temple Repertory Theater's Buried Child

POSTED: Wednesday, July 20, 2011, 12:00 PM
Rob Kahn and Jasmine St. Clair (David O'Connor)

When the lights come on at Temple Repertory Theater’s production of Sam Shepard’s Buried Child, it’s hard to imagine a more dismal scenario. An older man with a hacking cough sits miserably atop a dirty couch, slowly sinking into its ripped cushions. In front of him, an ancient-looking TV flickers dimly. The only other source of light comes from a low-burning bulb, dangling haphazardly from the ceiling.

With Buried Child, Shepard takes a critical look at the American family and shows it at its worst. Dodge (Gregg Almquist), the sickly old man seen at the play’s opening, was once a well-established farmer. Now, however, he is miserable, lifeless and full of contempt. He lives in a rural, Midwestern farmhouse with his wife, Halie, and their two adult sons, Tilden and Bradley. Halie, (Nancy Boykin), is cold and distant. She criticizes others for “un-Christian” behavior, but blatantly carries on an affair with another man. Tilden, (Rob Kahn) has the mind of a child and appears to be mentally disturbed, while Bradley is ruthless and violent. He shrinks from his mother and torments his father. Dysfunctional doesn’t even begin to cover it.

There are indications, however, that things weren’t always this bad. When Tilden’s son, played by Julian Cloud, arrives at the farm after being away for almost a decade, he is shocked at what he finds. He remembers his grandparents as good-humored, loving even — leaving audiences to wonder: what was it that happened to this family? 

Little by little, the truth comes out. In the third and final act of the play, Dodge reveals a terrible secret. Just as he and Halie are getting ready to retire, she finds out that she's pregnant. But the couple hadn't slept in the same bed for years. It's not his child. Soon after it's born, Dodge kills the baby and buries it in the backyard. As if to justify what he did, he declares: “We couldn’t let that grow into the middle our lives. It made everything we had accomplished look like nothing!” In the aftermath of the event, Tilden goes crazy and Halie turns to stone. The crops wither up and the farm lay barren.

The world of the play is filled with brutality, loss and despair. Despite the scenes of intense drama that unfold on stage, however, the characters do not seem to grow or change. If anything, they become increasingly withdrawn and disconnected from reality. There is no redemption or reconciliation between family members. And it does not seem likely that any of their lives will improve drastically once the play has come to an end. Yet Shepard does not leave audiences without any hope for the future. In the last moments of the play, Halie cries out as she looks through her window onto the backyard. Though no one has tended to it for years, the family farm has burst into bloom. Corn, carrots and tomatoes as far as the eye can see.

Through July 31, $20-$25, Randall Theater, 2020 N. 13th St., 215-204-1334, temple.edu/sct/theater.

(clare.foran@citypaper.net)

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