By John Lyle Belden
Meridian (from Merriam-Webster) a great circle on the surface of the earth passing through the poles; a representation of such a circle or half circle numbered for longitude
Meridian (in Indianapolis) the central north-south street marking “00” address for the city; it helps, with major east-west streets, to make an easy grid for getting around.
It appears that award-winning New York playwright Lucy Thurber has incorporated both concepts into the new play, “The Meridian Cafe,” commissioned by American Lives Theatre and performing its world premiere at the Phoenix Theatre Cultural Centre. With a sense for human connection that transcends East Coast or Hoosier culture, she gives us a night in the lives of people in a central familiar location, marking a place along their lives’ journey.
Director (and ALT artistic director) Chris Saunders agreed when I told him the setting feels like Indy’s South Meridian Street. It’s a working-class neighborhood with a small all-night diner (memories of Peppy Grill were expressed afterward). James (Ian Cruz) runs the café with the sort of Serenity Prayer wisdom that comes from being 10 years sober. His cook, Nicky (Joshua Short), has ambitions of becoming a professional chef. A frequent customer, so to speak, is Candace (Lynne Perkins), a local unhoused woman who is mentally frayed and largely unafraid. The coffee has endless refills.
A young woman, Sara (Morgan Morton), enters visibly upset. There are hints of a man, her husband who now wants a divorce, arriving as well. But the next person coming in the door is Luke (Matt Kraft), a young man who asks to speak with Nicky.
The two men grew up as friends in this neighborhood, but Luke’s substance abuse estranged them and landed him in prison. Now out and professing a year of sobriety, Luke asks for a job. After sizing him up briefly, James puts him to work.
Finally, Billy (Allen Sledge), Sara’s husband, arrives. While trying to talk to her he sees Luke and suddenly remembers meeting him. Confused, Luke retreats to the kitchen.
The situation gets more complicated as we learn that one thing Sara and Billy have in common (likely a catalyst for their struggling marriage) is that they both were fighting same-sex attractions in the Christian community of their small home town. She’s still struggling, while he – a professional theatre artist – feels he no longer can.
Through conversations, some held during smoke breaks outside, and an incident when Sara’s evangelical impulses upset Candace, we see various tensions rise and break. They won’t “sing Kumbaya,” but Billy does favor us with a Broadway number.
This being a fascinating character study taking place over a single night, we get a good impression of each of these personalities, though everyone is largely a cypher, as would be the case to us as strangers observing from our corner of the diner. Cruz makes James the captain of this ship, leading with calm resolve and stern when it’s called for. His relationship with Candace suggests a history and empathy with her life struggles.
In Perkins’ crafting of the character, Candace would be worthy of a play of her own (which we would love to see). She reflects aspects we too often see on this city’s streets, but without caricature or eliciting pity. There are plenty of hearty laughs in this show, but none at her expense.
Kraft employes his full comedy-to-drama range here. Luke’s apparent sincerity and lack of duplicity now collide with awareness of an addict’s easy lies and the fact he had been literally blackout drunk a year earlier. Given this single window to assess him, he is both likable and unreliable.
Sara is one mixed-up character, and fortunately Morton is brilliant at handling such roles. She has a lot to work through, and we see part of that process here. Billy is on a different point on a similar character arc, forced to reckon with a couple of assumptions about what’s best him and his wife, as well as the factors that brought him to this moment. All this Sledge ably manages, and sings beautifully as well.
Short takes on Nicky’s “young man from the ‘hood makes good” character with earnest good humor, especially in his concern for Luke tempered by the sting of past betrayal. Still, compared to the others, this role feels thin.
As Wendy told me when we discussed this play afterward, “this left me wanting more,” is both praise and critique. Perhaps a few more aspects of character in some roles would help, and the fairly short run time can take on additional moments without feeling padded. On the other hand, what more do we get to know of the strangers in a spellbinding conversation overheard in the next restaurant booth?
Regardless, I could see Thurber taking a production of this to success Off-Broadway (frankly, given her CV, this could be a possibility). Thus, we who saw it at the Phoenix can share the brag of seeing it first.
Nicely evocative set design with cleverly transparent outer walls is by Nick Kilgore. Tristen Durham is assistant director, and Lucy Yahr is stage manager.
An excellent snapshot of Midwest life that looks kindly into its shadows, visit “The Meridian Cafe” through Nov. 8 at 705 N. Illinois St. (a block from Meridian) in downtown Indianapolis. Get info and tickets at phoenixtheatre.org.
P.S. It’s interesting to me that one of the great offbeat literary minds of the 20th and 21st Century are each named “Thurber,” but I see no indication that Lucy is related to James (writer of numerous works, including “Walter Mitty”). If anyone is aware of a link, let us know.
P.P.S. Yes, I know The Peppy (which we miss!) was in Fountain Square and on 10th Street; I didn’t want to make a misleading comparison to any actual spot on Meridian.
