Mae (Alia Shawkat) attempts to bond with her dad (Peter Friedman) in Clare Barron’s You Got Older.
Clare Barron’s 2014 You Got Older is a comedy of many colors. In this revival at the handsomely renovated Cherry Lane Theatre, Freudian fantasy shares the stage with elements of a traditional rom-com, while gross-out jokes demand equal time against moments of heartwarming family humor. But primarily the intermissionless play is a bittersweet buddy comedy, a keenly observed tale of a sick father and the grown daughter who comes home to see him through his illness. Their sporadic bouts of bonding and awkward conversations provide comfort and support, even as their physical bodies and emotional losses betray them.
Mae (Alia Shawkat) is a 32-year-old Minneapolis attorney with a host of problems. She was recently fired from her job as a result of breaking up with her boyfriend, who also happens to have been her boss. She has developed a terrible rash running down the length of her back. And her father (Peter Friedman), a widowered company man living in their small-town family home in Washington State, needs yet another radiation treatment to ward off the aggressive cancer that has invaded his larynx.
Having no job to keep her away, Mae returns to her hometown for a lengthy stay with Dad. The opening scene between them involves a discussion over buying a toothbrush, small talk that is cleverly layered with subtle pleas for forgiveness and admissions of failed flesh:
Mac (Caleb Joshua Eberhardt) and Mae (Shawkat) find comfort in each other. Photographs by Marc J. Franklin.
Dad: We have bad gums in our family. […]
Mae: I know. My dentist told me.
Dad: I’m sorry about that.
Mae: It’s okay.
Dad: And gingivitis.
Mae: I know.
Dad: I think in general we have very acidic mouths.
Mae: I think so too.
Dad: So soft bristles.
When Mae sleeps, in the bedroom next to her father’s, her dreams are decidedly psychosexual. She conjures a cowboy (Paul Cooper) who at once is a rape-fantasy figure and a daddy substitute whose own throat is pocked with cancerous lesions. A beautifully conceived moment, under the sharp direction of Anne Kauffman, transforms the cowboy’s coughing into the coughing of her dad that wakes her from the dream.
Mae’s sisters Jenny (Nina White, left) and Hannah (Nadine Malouf) offer support.
Seeking a little alone time, Mae heads to the local bar, where she “meets cute” with Mac (Caleb Joshua Eberhardt). He is sure they were in fourth grade together; she has no idea who he is, and the confusion mutates into the weirdest of flirtations involving discussions of pus, an anointment of rash ointment, and the biting of beard hairs. This stands in stark contrast to a later scene where they hook up in what feels like an homage to high school romances, complete with Mac coming in through Mae’s bedroom window, nearly being caught by Dad, comforting hugs in lieu of intercourse, and nodding off from too many beers. But this encounter also pivots, as they confess to each other their fears of death.
There are times when a single scene feels like an entire production unto itself, especially mid-play, when Mae and her siblings all arrive at Dad’s hospital room following his radiation treatment. In short order, each of the new characters, busy with lives of their own, becomes fully formed, and family dynamics are laid bare. The eldest daughter, Hannah (Nadine Malouf), is the nurturing matriarch, providing healthy snacks for the clan to munch on. Little sister Jenny (Nina White) is still kid-like, on the verge of tears and desperate for a family photo before having to leave. Meanwhile, put-upon brother Matthew (Misha Brooks) is always busy on his phone.
Dad and Mae celebrate Jenny’s birthday without her.
Friedman is blessed with an everyman demeanor and pleasing voice that make him instantly likable. This is used to fine effect in roles where he has something to hide, like the secretive psychiatrist in Job, and Frank, the corporate survivalist in HBO’s Succession. While employing his veteran acting chops to gain a few laughs here, this open wound of a role makes him more a sounding board for Shawkat’s finely tuned performance, bouncing Mae’s insecurities off of him.
Kauffman, who also helmed the 2014 premiere of this play, has a field day working her way through the various tempos that Barron has orchestrated. The action moves along in a linear fashion, though with some big leaps in time as the seasons change and a grim winter takes hold. What could have been a stumble-filled progression is instead a dance party that never grows old, no more so than in the final scene, an actual dance party featuring Mae and her siblings, jubilant until they take stock of a noticeable absence.
You Got Older runs through April 12 at Cherry Lane Theatre (38 Commerce St.). Evening performances are at 7 p.m. Sunday and Tuesday through Thursday, 8 p.m. Friday and Saturday; matinees are at 2 p.m. Saturday and Sunday. For tickets and more information, visit cherrylanetheatre.org.
Playwright: Clare Barron
Direction: Anne Kauffman
Sets: Arnulfo Maldonado
Costumes: Ásta Bennie Hostetter
Lighting: Isabella Byrd
Sound: Daniel Kluger
