On & Off Broadway

‘Blackbird’

Review by Elyse Trevers

Posted

He’s big and hulking; she’s slight and frail. Yet during their initial confrontation in the revival of Blackbird, by David Harrower, she’s obviously in control. Fifteen years have passed since the two last saw each other. Uma (Michelle Williams) was only 12 and Ray (Jeff Daniels) was 40. Their brief but illicit relationship led to his subsequent arrest and imprisonment.

Years after his release from prison, he’s changed his name and created a new life for himself. Uma, however, still lives in the same house and is haunted by their affair and his abandonment of her, leading to her promiscuity and lack of personal connections.

Given the horrendous nature of his act, we should be appalled by Ray. It’s a testimony to Daniel’s skill that we aren’t disgusted with Ray’s behavior and motives. Ironically we feel almost compassion at the loneliness and longings of this pathetic man. Reprising the same role he played in the original 2005 version opposite Allison Pill, Daniels is a bit older and doughier but still impressive. Clenching his jaw tightly as if in pain and shrinking over as if punched, he’s alarmed when he first sees her. He’s distracted and wary, wondering if she’s come to harm him, but also concerned that some of his co-workers might see them. Daniels portrays a man who is obviously in pain, especially as he rationalized what he’s done.

Although Ray thinks Uma’s come to accuse, she’s come for answers. When they snuck away together, why didn’t he return for her? She’s angry because he’s ruined her life. Yet we see more passion than anger.

Having seen a picture of him in a trade journal, Uma seeks him out at his place of work and finds him at the end of the workday. Their meeting takes place in the lunchroom, a messy, dirty place with the garbage overflowing, as if evocative of the messiness of their lives.

Williams, an impressive movie actress, comes at him at high volume. She begins emotionally and keeps reaching higher. Slight and wispy, she, nevertheless, has a command about her, lacking the vulnerability, she needs to arouse complete sympathy. Even later when she’s overwhelmed by passion and quaking with emotion, Williams is over the top.

By the time the short drama has ended the actors look exhausted. They’ve worked hard and put a lot of emotion into their characters. But where do our sympathies lie? Should we dislike Ray, a pedophile, and feel sorry for Uma having lost her childhood? Do we feel like there’s still a spark of sexual interest? Who wins the audience sympathy? Do we even care at all?