We all realize that with life comes suffering. But unlike jury duty or DMV appointments, arrivals of actual suffering have no schedule. You can't say, oh, this horrible thing has just happened to me, so I guess I'm exempt for another year. Even in a deluge of misfortune, refrigerators need repair, gas tanks need refilling, and bills must be paid. Character can be reshaped by how one slogs ahead, often with spiritual reinforcements redeployed. In Sons of the Prophet, this can be prayers to Saint Rafka, who asked for physical suffering to prove that God had not abandoned her. Or perhaps recitations of the mantra "All is well" that The Prophet author Kahlil Gibran said shortly before his death.
Both of these historical figures are frequently invoked in Stephen Karam's play, though the playwright doesn't suggest he believes that they offer anything more than a topical anesthetic for what life throws you. Sons of the Prophet may not sound like a source of laughter as well as contemplation, but Karam has woven humor throughout his 100-minute play that was a Pulitzer Prize finalist in 2012. His newest play, The Humans, won him a Tony Award earlier this year.
New Conservatory Theatre Center is now presenting Sons of the Prophet, a play of strangely colliding scenes, dialogue, emotions, and characters. Karam may want to keep us off-balance, much as life doesn't offer itself up in neatly wrapped scenes, and this fractured style has been effectively corralled in director Ben Randle's production on a utilitarian set accented by girders suggesting the collapsed steel industry in the area of Pennsylvania where the play takes place.
The story gets underway with a comic scene of miscommunication in the office of a glitzy publisher banished from New York for authorizing a memoir about the Holocaust that was soon debunked. Her new assistant only wants to do his job, but Gloria can't help herself from clumsily trying to suss out facts about Joseph's life he is reluctant to share. Yes, he is of Lebanese descent; yes, his mother recently died; and yes, his father was the victim in a highly publicized accident that began with a high school student putting a deer decoy in the road. And, yes, his family is distantly related to Kahlil Gibran.
Gloria seems to have known much of this, especially the Douaihy family's connection to Gibran. She thinks a book about that connection might help her back to the top of her profession, and she dangles the promise of health insurance in exchange for Joseph's permission to allow his very private family to be examined. Joseph is torn because he took the job to get health insurance after various mysterious ailments sidelined him from his athletic ambitions. Meanwhile, with both parents dead, he has to hold together his family that includes his irascible ailing uncle who worships St. Rafka, and his flamboyantly gay younger brother. Joseph is also gay, but as his brother points out, no one would know it since he dresses like a lesbian lumberjack.
Family arguments are contentious affairs, with hardly anyone ever allowed to finish a thought before someone else tramples over their words. It creates a prickly feeling, not always pleasant, but there is both authenticity and ongoing humor in the exchanges. A main point of contention is how the family should deal with the high school athlete who caused the accident that led to the family patriarch's death. A local judge wants to let him play in the football championships before imposing a sentence, and the Douaihy family is torn between revenge and the chance to give this African-American foster child a chance to preserve his college scholarship.
Emotions flow from all directions, and those directions are never fixed. All the characters must adapt on the fly, and the performers admirably follow in step. Eric Kerr is appealingly stoic as Joseph, and adept with the character's low-key sardonic reactions. As his gay younger brother, Stephen Kanaski is his own special creation as he flounces around in a buttoned-down milieu. Donald Currie finds a place between jovial and crotchety as the old-school uncle who likes to push PC buttons. JD Scalzo has a nice turn as a reporter covering the story of the deadly deer decoy, providing Joseph with a brief love interest. Much of the comic relief comes from the desperate book editor that Cheryl Smith plays to neurotic perfection. Marcus Drew Steele brings sensitivity to the thinly written role of the high school athlete, and Nancy French and Loralee Windsor add more humor to the proceedings in a series of roles.
Sons of the Prophets is about a lot of things, and it can be frustrating when those things don't filter down into something that is singularly recognizable. It's as if Karam is saying, "Life doesn't give you that, so why should I?"
Sons of the Prophet will run at New Conservatory Theatre Center through Dec. 18. Tickets are $25-$50. Call (415) 861-8972 or go to nctcsf.org.