So why is Rebecca Gilman’s new drama called Swing State? Granted, it takes place in rural Wisconsin, in the recent past, when COVID shots were novelties and the Delta variant was lurking. But there’s not a lot political going on among her four principals, beyond a general head-butting between Peg (Mary Beth Fisher), the liberal, nature-loving recent widow occupying Todd Rosenthal’s hyperrealistic prairie home set, and the more traditionalist, presumably Trump-loving denizens around her. (Gratefully, the man himself rates only one mention.) In fact, when you get down to it, there’s really not a lot of anything going on.
Not that Gilman isn’t thoughtful and sincere, with characters who go through consistent paces to logical ends. Peg’s late husband was, it sounds like, a wonderful guy, a loving environmentalist whose unexpected passing has left her with less to live for. She’s still devoted to the earth, to harvesting and replenishing the rare seeds on her 50 acres, and listening for rare birds, whose visits have grown scarcer. And she’s still acting as surrogate parent to Ryan (Bubba Weiler), the very troubled youth struggling to build a life after serving three years in state prison on an assault rap.
Peg talks to herself in a theatrically artificial way and harbors a secret desire, one that manifests itself in the first two minutes, so it’s not much of a secret for the rest of the play. It’s a relief when Ryan enters, at least allowing Gilman’s unremarkable plotline to push forward. Some antique tools and a Winchester rifle have gone missing from Peg’s barn, and Ryan, who is unhappy in a low-level job driving a bread truck, is under constant surveillance and suspicion from Kris (Kirsten Fitzgerald), the dour, no-nonsense sheriff who has personal reasons for loathing him. Kris is assisted by her much nicer deputy Dani (Anne E. Thompson), who’s also her niece and is searching for a purpose in life.
Got all that? Gilman is nothing if not tidy, offering logical character arcs across the board and spinning out naturalistic dialogue, too much of which is of the small-talk variety. It’s also heavily expository: How many times does one of the quartet give out with, “Remember the time you and I …?”
If Swing State resembles anything, it’s one of Samuel D. Hunter’s Idaho-set plays, placid and smelling of the earth, only his works seem to have more on their minds. Gilman’s play takes place in a remote, everybody-knows-everybody community, where more discussions happen at the kitchen table than on Zoom, and small-town gossip gets more of an airing than current events. There’s a sense that a dramatic confrontation is coming, and when it does, director Robert Falls stages it splendidly, but it’s a long wait. And the subsequent wrap-up is everything one would expect—no more and no less.
The play is well-acted, in the unfussy style of the Goodman Theatre, the Chicago venue where it originated, and Weiler’s Ryan, who has to persuasively blend some character inconsistencies—his monologues reveal a more articulate, perceptive persona than the rest of his dialogue—is especially winning. Evelyn Danner’s off-the-rack costumes and Eric Southern’s expressive time-of-day lighting are just right, and Richard Woodbury’s sound design, besides feeling perfectly natural, convinces us there’s an angry dog just offstage left.
Gilman is gifted at giving voice to bucolic blue-collar nobodies, and she’s adept at cozy philosophizing: “There’s zero chance you can save what you love in the world if you stop trying,” posits Peg, and “Miracles can’t survive if they don’t have anywhere to land.” Such sentiments are appealing, and if you’re starved for neat, well-made plays, you may savor much of Swing State. It feels churlish to chide it for being maybe too neat. However.
The Goodman Theatre production of Swing State runs through Oct. 28 at the Minetta Lane Theatre (18 Minetta Lane). Evening performances are Monday through Saturday at 7 p.m.; matinees are Saturday at 2 p.m. For tickets and more information, visit swingstateplay.com.
Direction: Robert Falls
Set: Todd Rosenthal
Costumes: Evelyn Danner
Lighting: Eric Southern
Sound: Richard Woodbury