A few decades back, a play titled Detroit would likely have created automotive expectations. Today, Detroit suggests a story surrounded by urban collapse. Lisa D'Amour's play Detroit is about neither, nor is it set anyplace near its titular city. But while the characters may not realize it, they are in a Detroit state of mind.
An anonymous suburban subdivision that has seen better days is the setting for Detroit, a 2010 Pulitzer Prize-finalist now receiving its Bay Area debut at Aurora Theatre. The downward financial spiral that D'Amour sets out for its main characters stemmed from the financial crisis that began in 2008, yet even as some form of recovery has gained traction, there is also an uptick in news stories positing that "middle class" is an evaporating concept. It certainly is for Mary and Ben, homeowners with a hefty mortgage and declining income to pay it. But their situation seems rosy when compared to their younger new neighbors, Kenny and Sharon, who met in rehab and are now borrowing a relative's vacant house while waiting for better times.
The play is made up of a series of scenes taking place mainly at backyard barbecues as the couples forge a dangerous friendship. The scenes are often comically awkward, especially at the start, as topics of commonality must be found after multiple stumbles. Mary, the anxious hostess, blurts out tales of her plantar wart woes, while the new neighbors often silence their hosts with casual references to the "glossy motorcade of substances" they have abused. But as the relationship evolves, the nothing-to-lose Kenny and Sharon show the downwardly mobile Mary and Ben a possible liberation that comes with hitting bottom.
The small dramatic arcs of the individual scenes are effective more often than not, with D'Amour keenly revealing the undercurrents that contradict surface appearances. While the succession of scenes leads to a calamitous finish, it still doesn't feel the journey taken is all that far. The play may be enjoyed in its doses rather than as a satisfying culmination of them.
Director Josh Costello faces logistical challenges, as some scene changes are probably longer than intended since two backyards cannot be simultaneously situated on the small Aurora stage. But generally, the tone and energies are well channeled by a cast, with one exception, that gets under the skins of these characters.
As the bottled-up Mary, Amy Resnick is terrific at shooting off snarky asides or throwing an eye-roll look to her husband at the new neighbors' often dodgy behavior. Sharon is the opposite of bottled-up, and Luisa Frasconi plays the character with a ditziness lined with real sincerity. Kenny, her rehab Romeo, is a wary sort, uneasily eying Sharon whenever she says too much, and Patrick Kelly Jones effectively brings out the character's increasingly sinister vibes. Only Jeff Garrett as Ken, part of the white-collar unemployed, seems out of sync with the production, with an almost clownish performance of outsized gestures, expressions, and delivery.
Detroit is about having things and the heretofore untenable notion of winding up with fewer things. While the success = happiness equation has always had holes in it, D'Amour seems to be saying that the fear of free-falling from the American Dream cloud may be worse than actually hitting the ground.
Detroit will run at Aurora Theatre through July 19. Tickets are $32-$50. Call (510) 843-4822 or go to auroratheatre.org.