John C. Picardi’s The Sweepers, which
has returned to Urban Stages after an popularly
and critically acclaimed run last spring, is
something of a a one-two punch. The playwright
sets the audience up for a charming
slice-of-life play set at the end of World War
II, and then delivers an emotionally and
genuinely heartbreaking ending.
In The Sweepers, the audience is
introduced to Bella, Dotty and Mary, all
Italian-Americans living in Boston’s North End
in 1945. The three have been friends since
childhood and now in live in three adjoining
houses that share a backyard area which seems to
be presided over by a statue of the Virgin Mary
to which all three turn during their times of
crisis.
And there is crisis for the three. Mary’s
husband and son are overseas in the Pacific. In
addition to her prayers, Mary’s war efforts
consist of collecting refuse for the war effort
that borders on the compulsive. Dotty’s husband
has returned from his tour of duty, but has been
hospitalized for his continued belief that the
war has followed him home and that Hitler is
hiding under the bed. Bella, whose Irish husband
ran off long ago and who lost a brother to the
first world war, does not need to worry about
her son, Sonny, being lost in battle. He was
classified 4-F because of a heart murmur and
stayed at home to earn his law degree.
Bella’s crisis comes from Sonny’s impending
marriage to a young woman of second generation
Italian descent who lives not in the
neighborhood but on Boston’s South Side. Bella
sees that Sonny is becoming, as one character
puts it, "An American" and she realizes that she
might lose him. As the wedding nears, Bella and
her two friends continue to insist that Sonny
uphold one long-standing tradition, the hanging
of the bridal sheet the morning after the
wedding. When Sonny and his now-wife, Karen,
refuse, secrets which Bella, Dotty and Mary have
long kept hidden come flying out.
Picardi has balanced his play with an eye for
detail and nuance. He draws his audience into
his characters’ lives carefully and when he
exposes their self-torturing truths, it is
hauntingly dramatic, never melodramatic.
The five-person ensemble brings the work to
life with a realism that enhances the play’s
deep emotional attributes. Valerie Hubbard, with
a kewpie doll shaped face and a tight knot of
curls sprouting from under the kerchief she
wears on her head, throws off malapropisms
("fastests" for "Facists") without being
condescending and seems genuinely afraid of her
husband’s release from the hospital. With a
truly Romanesque profile and vivid red hair,
Dana Smith’s alcoholic Bella never falls into
the stereotype of over-protective mother, but
rather calls to mind the prototypical strong
mother referred to in the play, Mildred Piece as
played by Joan Crawford. Bella will do what she
must to ensure that one man does not leave her.
In a last minute substitution, Antoineete
LaVecchia plays the strangely repressed Mary
with heart and just a touch of anger. It’s a
tribute to LaVecchia’s talent that, after only
one day of rehearsal and three performances, the
slight variations of Mary’s character shine
through as well as they do.
Playing the younger generation are Matt
Walton, whose rugged good looks do not detract
from the character’s sensitive side and
starry-eyed ideals about doing good for his
community, and Domenica Cameron-Scorsese, whose
petite stature belies the strength and fire that
she calls up when she must stand up to Sonny’s
mother and her two friends.
Roman J. Tatrowicz’s scenic and lighting
design atmospherically takes the audience to a
kind of backyard pressure cooker where the red
walls of the houses that surround the action
seem almost to glow with the traditions of the
past and the bright age of atomic energy that is
dawning at the play’s bittersweet end.
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The Sweepers plays through December 1st.
Performances are Tuesday through Saturday
evenings at 8pm, with Saturday and Sunday
matinees at 3pm. Tickets are $35.00 and may be
purchased by calling 212-206-1515, or online at
www.urbanstages.org.
-- Andy
Propst