A&E
Dry Land successfully tackles a dark subject
By Dylan Horgan ’17
January 26, 2017
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Like most of my fellow attendees last Friday night, I approached Dry Land with some degree of trepidation. This approach was a result from the play’s advertisements, which stated that the piece “frankly addresses the practice of self-induced abortion.”
Indeed, Dry Land wastes no time in diving into its subject matter; the opening scene features the protagonist Amy (portrayed by Taomi Kenny ’20) insisting that her friend, Ester (portrayed by Taylor Wallace ’19 ), punch her in the stomach. One audience member seated in front of me remarked, “I think I have too much empathy for this play.” It’s definitely a harrowing journey for the protagonists, and the squeamish may struggle with a couple of scenes.
However, it must be emphasized that there’s more to the play than merely the gruesomeness of self-induced abortion. The student performers here are uniformly excellent; each character portayed with consideration and authenticity.
Kenny in particular is fantastic in the role of Amy, a troubled teen struggling to balance the expectations of her society and her own desires.
Amy’s friend and confidant Ester is also impressively performed, Wallace imbuing the role with a subtlety that compliments Kenny’s (necessarily) more animated performance. The supporting cast is filled by Ali Zildjian ’19, Jack Martin ’19, and Ryan Cassidy ’17, each pitch-perfect in their supporting roles.
There’s also a depth to the script that saves it from simply being a PSA on a troubling, social issue that often goes undiscussed. The friendship between Amy and Ester is truly convincing. It really does feel like the stakes are high when their relationship seems in danger of unraveling, and this realism redeems the storyline for following a few well-worn tropes.
Is it possible that there are some popular kids in high school who actually enjoy being popular? Movies and TV would have us believe that they all secretly pine for a nerdy outcast to befriend. You know, someone who really “gets them.” The revelation that the pseudo-ditzy Amy really dreams of becoming a writer is kind of eye-roll inducing, calling to mind a star quarterback’s confession to his father that he, “just wants to dance, Dad!”
Nonetheless, Ruby Rae Spiegel’s play is full of quirky, memorable scenes that stick in your mind well after the hour and a half of darkness has ended. A scene in which Ester can’t stop laughing while sitting on Amy’s stomach is as discomforting as it is riveting.
One scene in which a family friend (portayed by Martin) chats up Ester nearly immaculately reproduces the awkward, late-night conversations that are a rite of passage for a college kid.
On a more minor note, the minimalist staging really suits the tone of the play and forcefully directs the audience’s attention towards the main players. One strange touch is the pop songs that play in between scenes. Maybe I’m missing a deeper meaning, but they often felt jarring and intrusive. I understand the desire to fill in the silence and sound of shuffling feet, but I didn’t feel the awkward insertion of an Eminem song was really warranted, despite a few relevant lyrics.
All and all, Dry Land is a thought-provoking and powerfully performed piece of theater. Additionally, I commend the students involved for taking on such dicey subject matter.