By Abby Lass
On February 5th through February 7th, South Stage presented Almost, Maine, a romantic comedy made up of vignettes, in which the characters from each story are somehow connected to one another.
Almost, Maine starts off in awkward silence. Pete (senior Sam Fidler) and Ginette (junior Kat Quinn) are seated on a bench, as far apart as they can be but still together: still connected and in love. Pete proceeds to attempt a romantic gesture that involves a frustrated Ginette marching offstage because for some reason, Pete believes that getting farther away from someone actually means you’re getting closer.
Written by John Cariani and directed by Jim Honeyman, Almost, Maine is a series of vignettes that take place in a fictional town in Maine on an ordinary Friday night. All of them involve love, in some form or another.
This is not the show to see if you want to see a corpse in a UV-lit wheelchair. This show is not filled with exotic costumes from distant lands and it is does not involve anyone in bright red platform heels and corsets. Not that that makes Almost, Maine better or worse than any of the other shows on the docket for this year, just different.
This is a show about love, people in love and falling out of it, people who crave it and people who have it on their list of things that should be feared. The production team and the actors kept this in mind throughout the entirety of this show’s execution, and the results paid off.
At first glance the set may have appeared relatively simple, a dark arc over the stage with dark trees, a snowy hemisphere protruding towards the audience, but a moment of thought reveals the stunning concept: A snow globe. The ethereal northern lights, beautiful spots of blue and green light, were a technical highlight of the show.
As I said before, Almost, Maine has no bustiers or bustles, but subtle color hints in the various assortments of parkas,ear-muffs, and gloves reveal who is in love versus who is not, a reminder of just how literal the phrase “wearing your heart on your sleeve” can be.
In terms of acting, the small cast was a refreshing mix of South Stage alumni and complete newcomers.
Each actor played at least two roles, some more, and everyone fully committed to their characters with a bravery and earnestness that was as heartwarming as the subject matter.
From Fidler and sophomore Naomi Honig’s roller coaster relationship, to junior Liel Dolev’s endearing struggle with congenital analgesia and Quinn’s ability to teach him how to feel, to sophomore Alex Grandi and junior Mark Talvacchia literally falling for each other, to junior Sam Adams and Fidler’s inability to save their marriage, to Talvacchia and senior Sierra Weintraub’s adorable strip tease (don’t worry, they ended in bright red long johns), every scene simultaneously left an ache in your chest and made you believe in the possibilities.
What’s so striking about Almost, Maine is how real all of it feels, and yet how magical the circumstances are, as well.
In the show, characters physically put love in a bag and transport it, but in reality you can put a reminder of your love in an object to show the other person how much they mean to you. Shoes don’t fall from the sky as they do in the show, but the realization that something just isn’t working can feel like a boot to the brain nonetheless. You can’t cure underdeveloped pain sensors with a kiss and several knocks to the head with an ironing board, but wouldn’t we all like to think that being in love can teach us what it really means to feel?
Almost, Maine is the most commonly produced play in high schools in America, so chances are you’ll find another opportunity to see it in neighboring high schools. Despite this, South Stage’s production included a vitality and an honest humor I challenge you to replicate.
