Swing State
Knowing only the title, “Swing State,” as I walked into the Minetta Lane Theatre for a matinee, I expected political parody, Trump commentary, and perhaps something along the lines of the 2008 Kevin Costner movie of a similar name. What I got was something completely opposite of parody, with Trump only being name-dropped once, and the major election discussion being one of a small town Wisconsin sheriff. The political title could be traced to a metaphor about the lives of Americans in the divisive times of 2021, the friction of national issues at the local level, but it’s never explicitly linked. What’s left in this incomplete theme is a human story that soars when it stays within the interpersonal connections and flops when it preaches outside their world.
This show, and subsequently this review, needs a trigger warning for discussion of suicide.
Peg, our protagonist played by Mary Beth Fisher, begins the show making zucchini bread, quickly turning the knife on herself as she contemplates self harm. Thankfully, she’s interrupted by Ryan (Bubba Weiler), her neighbor and sole friend after her husband passed away last year. Peg and Ryan have a beautiful, maternal relationship, spending the show musing over nature, grief, and addiction. Ryan is sober after a previous arrest where he spent three years in jail and Peg is trying to keep him on the straight and narrow. Ryan tries to keep Peg safe from her grief, but when a vintage gun she owns goes missing, Sheriff Kris (Kristen Fitzgerald) and Deputy Dani (Anne E. Thompson) immediately accuse Ryan.
Peg Smith, although with a very generic name, is a far from generic character. Fisher runs the gauntlet of emotions, coloring every moment with an honest rollercoaster of grief. She is constantly unexpected, breaking into tears while describing grass and then regaining her composure sentences later. Her relationship with Ryan is the grounding force of the story and the tethering motivation in her planning of suicide, organizing to leave him the prairie and her house. Bubba Weiler gives a great performance as well, unhinged in his own grief and addiction, but ultimately always working for the protection of Peg. They were very heart warming as a unit and brought a few tears to my eyes as they tried to help each other. I was locked in with their love for one another, though the biggest moments of dragging came from the discussion of the land. Peg is very protective over preserving her prairie, and even as Ryan makes fun of her lamenting over extinct bats and invasive runoff, he tries to stick with her. Forcing the audience to also bear with this talk does lead it to stall the pace. It felt like an attempt at a call to action without any succinct motivation.
As a slice of life play, the show worked for me. The discussion of injustice within the animal kingdom and prison system wasn’t completely effective but not fruitless. I found myself deeply caring for Peg and Ryan’s relationship, even if I can’t recall all the plant types she discussed trying to save on her land. Playwright Rebecca Gilman, a resident of rural Wisconsin with personal inspiration for the show’s set, didn’t leave me with any new takes on vaccinations or nature preservation, but I will be continuing to think about her musings on grief and the people we turn to after someone is gone.
