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The leader of the pack is Tamara (Tara Westwood), a successful life coach, author, and motivational speaker—modeled, perhaps, on the character Susan Sarandon played in the Showtime's, "The Big C," although the play also makes a couple of snarky references to Tony Robbins, the king of motivational infomercials. Tamara is so self-assured that she gives birth in the evening and is back in the gym in the morning without an ache or a stretch mark to her name. She is joined in the family portrait by her happy-to-go-along husband Martin (Andrew Blair), their five-year-old son Ben (Michelle David), and the newborn Bea, a baby only a mother or a horticulturalist could love. (Bea is a plant; Tamara adapts!). Nothing throws Tamara, who plans every minute of every day for herself and her brood. Their lives are controlled by the schedule and by the rituals that mark their days, from stripping to their underwear before they sit down to dinner, to Ben's carefully-monitored violin practice ("you're getting so good at self-criticism," Tamara praises her son), to the couple's weekly "Sex and Recreation Day." When Martin proposes a little off-the-plan book sexual improvisation, Tamara is appalled: "Improvisation is for people who don't know what they are doing!" And so their lives go on in very predictable patterns until they come across Belinda (Marguerite Stimpson), Ben's substitute kindergarten teacher, whom Tamara visits to discuss the "Cheerios incident." It seems her beloved son was exposed to—gasp—grains during snack time, and she is there to upbraid Belinda about it. (Ben has no allergies, but maintaining strict control over the family's diet falls under one of Tamara's absolutes). Belinda, we quickly learn, is also neurotic, but more within the range of what passes for normal levels of neurosis among New Yorkers. She is self-deprecating, tends to speak in rhymes when she is nervous, and requires visitors to use a password before she will open the door. But still, she is far less uptight than Tamara, and soon she is encouraging Ben to eschew the violin for more age-appropriate (and fun) activities like banging on buckets and metal containers. She and Martin also find themselves increasingly attracted to each other, and it isn't long before she is welcoming his "improvisations" in a way that Tamara never has. Appropriately, the playwright has actually provided a longer title for the play. Its full title is Branched: A Comedy With Consequences. And, indeed, there are consequences to upsetting the applecart. Ben, in particular, is unable to tolerate the interruption to the reliable consistency of his family's routines. The world has become a scary place—pretty much like it is for most five-year-olds—and the fallout from these changes starts to pile up toward the end, as Tamara tries to put Humpty Dumpty back together again. There is nothing subtle about Branched, which is performed in the manner of a lunatic farce under the direction of Robert Ross Parker. Given the underlying truth the play addresses of the futility of attempting to truly control our lives, I would have preferred a more reined-in presentation, bringing it closer in style to one of Christopher Durang's laughter-through-pain works like The Marriage of Bette and Boo. But there is no faulting the cast, as the actors throw themselves completely into their roles. Ms. Westwood's Tamara shows us the crazy underneath the super-normal. Ms. Stimpson as Belinda wears her neuroses like a badge of honor. Mr. Blair as Martin has the look and guy-next-door mannerisms of a goofy Seth Meyers. And Ms. David, who does voiceover work in addition to acting, splendidly captures the five-year-old Ben. So, if you are looking for a wild ride in the manner of the Mad Tea Party's spinning cups at Disneyland, then Branched is the perfect place to spend the evening.
Branched
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