David Muse, artistic director of the Studio Theatre, has begun a new initiative, the Studio Lab Series, dedicated to “stripped-down productions” of new plays. The first is Duncan Macmillan’s “Lungs,” and if the productions that follow are of the same quality, the Studio Lab Series will surely be around for a long time. A man and woman appear, standing in the checkout line at IKEA. The man casually brings up the issue of having a baby. The high-strung woman, who is totally unprepared for even a discussion of a child, much less the reality of one, goes into orbit.
As the play progresses and the couple debate the pros and cons of having a child, the effect it will have not just on their lives but on the planet, other issues arise: how both characters relate to one another, how they relate to each others’ parents, what they value.
| Onstage |
| ‘Lungs’ |
| Where: The Studio Theatre, 1501 14th St. NW |
| When: Through Oct. 16 |
| Info: $20; 202-332-3330; studiotheatre.org |
Most of the play takes place in the early period of the man and woman’s life, when they are just starting out, deciding where they should live and so on, but at no point is this a realistic play about young love. It is about “the purpose of life itself … the meaning, the meaninglessness … the rest of your life, the rest of someone else’s life, committing someone to something forever.”
Both Macmillan’s script and Aaron Posner’s direction challenge conventional assumptions about time and space. Posner keeps the action moving at the speed of light. Moments of silence may represent just moments. Or they may represent weeks or months.
Brooke Bloom and Ryan King are well-suited to their roles. Bloom perfectly captures the intensity and frailty of the excitable woman, obsessive about the couple being good people. But she knows they are: They recycle and ride bicycles. The man is more relaxed, adrift once he is unmoored from the woman. King plays him with a compelling mix of gentleness, confusion and idealism.
“Lungs” is a very serious play, dealing with the possibility of, and the reality of, losing a child. But it is also a very funny play in which human fears, desires and failings are absolutely credible. As it careens from references to the ozone footprint of elephants to those of babies, refusing to give names to its characters, “Lungs” suggests that this play is less about a specific man and woman than it is about us all.
