Caroline needs change. More to the point, she needs a new liver. Holed up in her bedroom, the critically ill teen mostly communicates through social media. So she’s not particularly amenable to Anthony, who shows up unannounced to tell Caroline that they are supposed to work together on a presentation on Walt Whitman’s “Leaves of Grass.” It’s due tomorrow, so time is of the essence. But as a girl who knows she is on borrowed time, Caroline isn’t inclined to open up immediately to Anthony’s remonstrations, even when he tells her, “You don’t have to be nice to me, but be nice to Walt Whitman.”
Time is one of the essences in Lauren Gunderson’s “I and You,” now in its local premiere at Redtwist Theatre under David Prete’s direction. But though the payoff is sweet, the setup feels contrived — as if Gunderson reverse-engineered her play in order to justify the late-in-the-show twist. That sense of artificiality hampers the proceedings initially.
Subtlety is not a strong point here, and particularly in the opening moments of the show, Grace Melon’s Caroline reaches some ear-splitting levels for the small space. But Melon and Rejinal Simon’s Anthony do eventually find a believable groove. It’s just not really connected to the Whitman poem, which feels like a pasted-on literary contrivance. (Dare I call it “a Whitman sampler?”)
The presentation poster that Caroline is supposedly fixing up for Anthony remains an unfortunate and distracting eyesore, and Gunderson doesn’t show us the moment where the girl finally opens up to the raw beauty of Whitman’s verse, leaving us to assume it happened in a blackout marking the passage of time on this strange night of epiphany.
But when these two unlikely comrades begin comparing notes on John Coltrane and Jerry Lee Lewis, or when Caroline claims her own “barbaric yawp” in defying the victim narrative others try to impose upon her, “I and You” sings. And while Melon (who is a student at Chicago Academy of the Arts) feels like she is still finding her way into this tricky role, she is undeniably bold and vulnerable in riding the raw energy of rage and exuberance driving Caroline’s journey. Simon’s Anthony provides a suitably contained but empathetic counterbalance, and as the sympathy grows between the characters, so does our investment in how these two complete each other.
2.5 STARS
Through Jan. 4, Redtwist Theatre, 1044 W. Bryn Mawr Ave., $30-$35 at 773-728-7529 or redtwist.org