Theater Review: 'How I Learned To Drive'-Vogel's Work In Ridgefield Is Creepy, Haunting, Funny And Gripping
Theater Review: âHow I Learned To Driveââ
Vogelâs Work In Ridgefield Is Creepy, Haunting, Funny And Gripping
By Julie Stern
RIDGEFIELD â âIâm a very patient man. Iâll never do anything you donât really want me to doâ¦â Ridgefield Theater Barnâs production of Paula Vogelâs beautifully crafted, prize winning How I Learned to Drive is an excruciating vision of emotional pain and invasion of personal privacy that is harrowing to watch.
Dealing with sexual molestation of a child by a beloved and trusted family member, the play, like to many real-life situations, begins with a deceptive sense of comfort and security. When her Uncle Peck makes advances to her in the front seat of a parked car, 17-year-old âLiâl Bitâ seems fully capable of handling the situation, fending him off like a pushy high school date, her tone wryly affectionate.
However, as playwright Vogel uses the directional signals of a driving lesson ââreverse gear,â âidle,â âforward gearâ â to shuttle back and forth in time between past and future, the nature of the relationship and the extent of the long term damage to Liâl Bit begins to come clear, as Peck emerges as a predatory manipulator and the rest of her family as hapless enablers.
The story unfolds through the voice of the protagonist, as she recounts the years of âdriving lessonsâ she received from her âUncle Peck.â In comparison with the rest of her quarrelsome, dysfunctional relatives, Uncle Peck â the ex-marine with the southern drawl and patient good humor â is the only person who shows her respect and attention.
Beginning with her first âdriving lessonâ when Liâl Bit is eleven, it is clear to the audience that this patient, gently, uncle has an unhealthy interest in his niece that transcends teaching her to operate his car on the back roads of rural Maryland. But the bond between them, based on their mutual sense of alienation from the rowdy and ignorant family â who mock her for reading Shakespeare and aspiring to go to college â seems like the only valuable thing in her life. Because he is an alcoholic, Liâl Bit takes it upon herself to âkeep him on the wagonâ by continuing their relationship.
Tom Sheehan is compelling in the role of Peck, exuding a rueful friendliness that invites you to really like him, tempting you to believe, as he undoubtedly believes himself, that this middle-aged manâs obsession with a young girl is genuine love. Yet a number of absolutely excruciating scenes reveal the insidiousness of his intentions.
Sheehan is perfectly matched by Barbara Marks as Liâl Bit, who transforms before our eyes from and embittered, middle aged woman, to a giggly child, and covering every stage in between.
Under the terrific direction of David Bass, the rest of the cast â Cheryl Ann Boyd, Tom Devlin and Jennifer Gantwerker âcreate a rich sense of time and place. Identified in the program simply as âGreek Chorusâ they play a variety of characters, ranging from the family members to Liâl Bitâs middle and high school classmates, people she meets in her dysfunctional later life, and more.
At times the play is astonishingly funny, especially with the antics of the âGreek Chorus.â But for all its use of period pop music and slide projected visual images of road signs and occasional sight gags, what is clear is that the driving lessons become a metaphor for all of life.
As Peck explains to his niece that he loves driving, because being behind the wheel is the one thing that gives him a sense of power, it is exactly the powerlessness of her situation as a victim that makes her life a continual torment.
âIf I keep both hands on the wheel, how can I defend myself?â she worries, in mock-seriousness.
âDonât worry, Iâll never do anything while youâre driving the car,â he tells her.
How I Learned to Drive is a powerful work, given a supremely professional interpretation by Ridgefield Theater Barn. Be forewarned: this play deals with very heavy and painful issues. It is definitely not for children, and even parents may well lose some sleep over it.
(Performances continue weekends until April 4. Call 203-431-9850 for details.)