How fortunate for playwright Tracy Letts that he grew up in a bitter, vindictive and addiction-prone household.
For his relatives became the inspiration for the Westons of Pawhuska, Oklahoma, in his Pulitzer Prize and Tony Award-winning August: Osage County, a darkly dramatic and often quite funny look at his wildly dysfunctional family.
The three-and-a-half-hour, three-act epic work focuses on the unscheduled reunion of the Westons following the disappearance and demise of the family’s poet-professor patriarch, Beverly (Dennis Creaghan in an all-too-brief appearance).
He has been long married to tart-tongued, tactless Violet, who could drive anyone to suicide, which his death is soon deemed. Recently diagnosed with cancer of the mouth, Violet has sought relief in pain-killers which keep her perpetually high, while Beverly has muted his demons the old-fashioned way with alcohol.
Arriving soon are Violet’s three grown daughters and their various male appendages and offspring, along with Violet’s blowsy sister Mattie Fae and her henpecked husband, Charlie.
You can almost feel the midsummer heat radiating off Michael Amico’s richly detailed, multi-level home set. But it is not just the stifling weather that prompts a family meltdown of dramatic – and often comic – proportions.
The first act is largely exposition and set-up, followed by the play’s rousing centerpiece, a post-funeral dinner begun with an amusingly halted ad-lib grace from Uncle Charlie (a droll Stephen Trovillion.) But the scene, which devolves into chaos, belongs to Violet (Sara Morsey) and her eldest daughter Barbara (Kathy McCafferty). Vi grows increasingly belligerent as her meds kick in, leading Barbara to go all Al Haig on her, bellowing that she is now in charge.
Violet is one of the juiciest female stage roles of the past quarter-century, and Morsey is more than up to its challenges. The character’s mouth cancer often gets in the way of her ability to speak, but when she gets control of it, she can spew venom with killer ferocity. Morsey is well matched by McCafferty’s Barbara, who gradually morphs into a younger version of her mother. Just as the character declares she is taking over the rule of the clan, McCafferty takes command of the play’s third act.
Despite these two stellar performances, August: Osage County is a genuine ensemble piece of theater, without a single weak link at Dramaworks. Still, standouts include Trovillion’s Charlie, who ultimately puts Mattie Fae in her place, and Margery Lowe as Ivy Weston, Violet’s youngest daughter, whose perhaps last hope for romance seem destined to not be realized.
Complementing Amico’s nook-and-cranny filled house set is Kirk Bookman’s expertly shadowy lighting, pitch-perfect sound design by Roger Arnold and apt Sooner State lived-in duds from the ever-reliable Brian O’Keefe.
Like any family reunion play worth its salt, secrets will be revealed during August: Osage County. Frankly, there is more than a little soap opera in Letts’ play, but not enough to bother the Pulitzer committee. It has been likened to Long Day’s Journey Into Night, and the similarities are undeniable. If only Eugene O’Neill had a sense of humor like Letts does.
AUGUST: OSAGE COUNTY, Palm Beach Dramaworks, 201 Clematis St., West Palm Beach. Through Sun., April 16. $84. 561-514=4042.