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Verité

Theatre Review by Matthew Murray


Lin-Anna Camp, Oliver Hollmann, and Danny Wolohan
Photo by Erin Baiano

What if you were given carte blanche to live out your wildest dreams on someone else's dime, and promised that you'd attain your loftiest career goals if you followed through? This is exactly the opportunity bestowed on a young married woman in Nick Jones's new play Verité, which just opened at Lincoln Center's Claire Tow Theater in an LCT3 production. And, as you can imagine, everything goes simply perfectly as a result.

Just kidding. What seems too good to be true invariably is, and this fascinating and disquietingly funny play proves just that as it unfolds. But it's more than just frothy fantasy. It's considerably more concerned with the motivations behind those skyscraping aspirations in the first place, and argues, quite adeptly, that rather than merely be content with what we have, we have to know why it is (or isn't) good enough.

Jo (Anna Camp) isn't aware at first there's anything wrong. By and large she's happy, married to Josh (Danny Wolohan) and having a young son (Lincoln, played by Oliver Hollmann). Sure, Josh's business recently collapsed, so the family of three is forced to live with Josh's sister, Liz (Jeanine Serralles). But that's just a small hiccup in the life of a woman who otherwise has everything she thinks she wants.

That changes one day when she's called into a book publisher headed by the wacky Andreas and Sven (Matt McGrath and Robert Sella). They liked Jo's novel, which they came across by accident, and believe she has potential, but its story of dwarves, dragons, and magic chalices is not their stock in trade. They're purveyors of the truth, or so they claim, and offer Jo an advance of $50,000 to deliver a memoir about her life by any means necessary. That she's done nothing she considers worthy of writing about should not be an impediment, they insist.


Lin-Anna Camp with Ebon Moss-Bachrach
Photo by Erin Baiano

But as soon as she accepts the offer and the cash, Joe starts noticing things that suggest Andreas and Sven are altering her reality to improve her story. The big one is Winston (Ebon Moss-Bachrach), whom she meets at the drug store. They were high school classmates he claims, as he listens intently to the sound flowing through his earbuds, but she doesn't remember him. That he knows a startling amount about her only sends up additional red flags.

So what's the real truth? Like so much in Verité, that's open to interpretation. Jones, who proved his knack for upending convention with The Coward at LCT3 several years ago, is an expert at dropping clues while not giving up the game, and each of Jo's points of worry apparently has a logical explanation that suggests maybe all her troubles really are just in her head. Is Jo really being manipulated by people hell-bent on extracting from her the world's next runaway best-seller and Hollywood blockbuster (if the rumored movie deal goes through)? Or is she just using that as the excuse she's always needed to live the risk-taking, hedonistic existence her husband and son don't allow?

Though Verité could easily be just a one-joke concept, Jones leavens the many absurdities with deadly serious notes that require you to see beyond just the amusing surface. In fact, these have grown to all but consume the action by the final scenes, though the shadowy, even dread-inducing places you and Jo end up going feel like only the logical outgrowth of what's come before, and not a tool of the playwright's whim. That director Moritz von Stuelpnagel is able to maintain the atmosphere so well from beginning to end is another key element of the evening's success.

Camp, who's now best known for the film Pitch Perfect but has a lengthy stage resumé as well, is ideal casting as Jo: Her easygoing charm has just the right amount of edge to leave you questioning her motivations, but she's so likable and smoothly honest with a joke that you can't hate Jo even as you grow to increasingly disbelieve her. Camp is particularly good at negotiating Jo's ever-twistier attempts to convince herself of the outlandish facts that would have to follow for everything she believes to be true.

Moss-Bachrach makes a fine, deadpan romantic foil for her, giving Winston a firm grounded and trusting nature that contrasts superbly against Jo's flights of fancy. Though his role is small, Hollmann is an appealing young actor who makes the most—but never too much—of his part in Jo's destructive saga of discovery. Wolohan and Serralles, though both fine, turn out less-sharp portrayals that contribute less to the fun. McGrath and Sella swing in the other direction, their hokey, Scandinavian shtick making it difficult to ever take their extravagant claims at face value.

Jones could further hone Verité by reining in the writing for both of them, and giving Josh and Liz more leeway to participate in Jo's delusion. Even so, he, von Stuelpnagel, and Camp keep you guessing right until the final scene, and don't even let you walk away unscathed. There's no question that success always comes at a price; it's your willingness to pay it, and your ability to discover what it is before things get out of hand, that determine whether you're worthy to handle it.


Verité
Through March 15
Claire Tow Theater, 150 West 65 Street
Tickets online and current Performance Schedule: Telecharge