Carrol (Craig Taggart) and Katie (Kristen McCullough) develop a unlikely friendship when they discover their small, hometown connection.
Wounded, by Jiggs Burgess, is both gritty and warm. Digging into dark subjects such as alcoholism, drunk driving, co-dependent relationships, the alienation of being gay in a small town, and sexual assault, the play also shows how, in the face of adversity, humanity still shines through in some people.
The show, divided into two interrelated one-acts, opens on Katie (Kristen McCullough, who superbly balances the tension and playfulness of the role) pushing a wheelchair. Her daughter Sparrow is paralyzed after being hit by a drunk driver. Katie makes herself comfortable on a park bench but is soon interrupted by several phone calls from her mother, who appears to be stalking her.
Both Robert (Shaw Jones) and Carrol (Taggart) are deeply wounded in Jiggs Burgess’ play. Photos by Russ Rowland.
Suddenly, Carrol (a flamboyant character played adroitly by Craig Taggart) sashays down the aisle and sits on the same bench as Katie, much to her chagrin. He clutches a neon blue Big Gulp and, after making himself comfortable, riffles through a Mary Poppins-like satchel from which he pulls out a book, a bag of Cheetos, and other sundries. Dressed in blue velvet loafers, a light linen suit, and a fedora, Carrol has a Southern drawl as large as his girth. He has published three books and is a cross between Truman Capote and Tennessee Williams. He has returned to this small Texas town from New York City after a professional flop, but also to care for his mother.
Katie asks him to sit elsewhere, but Carrol refuses. Their fraught exchange dissolves when Carrol reveals he knows her mother from high school, and about the drunk driving incident. His familiarity and empathy draws Katie out. Her antipathy—“I have a gun,” she warns him repeatedly—turns into a cathartic conversation about the challenge of raising a disabled child. Although her relief is temporary, it will carry her for a while.
The park setting (set design by Evan Frank) is accented by the sound (Adam Matthew) of children laughing in the background, and soft purple and green lights (Carter O. Ford) projected on a pressed-tin backdrop to create a beachy, shorefront vibe. This setting is transformed into a cozy porch with a view in Act II. Del Shores’ direction keeps the pace of the conversations going, and the revelations that punctuate the wordy dialogue pack little punches as they emerge.
In Act II, Carrol anxiously hosts Robert (Shaw Jones), a schoolmate from high school whom Carrol had a major crush on. Carrol has prepared a cornucopia of food—charcuterie and cheese plates, desserts and small sandwiches—which he continually snacks on. When the sinewy Robert arrives, Carrol nervously titters away like the finches congregating outside his window. At first, their conversation about high school seems congenial enough, but under Shores’ direction, the tension is kept high. Jones’s Robert is jumpy and nervous—he’s there under the pretense of seeing an old friend, but in reality he desperately needs money and is looking for work after serving time in prison. He is nearing the end of his parole.
Humor initially punctuates their exchange even as things escalate. Unsure what to do, Carrol offers him a celery stick. Robert says: “No, Carrol, food won’t ... it doesn’t ... a celery stick?”
Carrol: I don’t know, I just ... Robert, you know I’ve never been good at having friends.
Robert: But, jeeze. A celery stick?
Carrol: You just don’t look like cheesecake would be the first option. Some more water, then?
Robert (Shaw) and Carrol (Taggart) are a study in physical contrasts as they attempt congeniality while the past seethes beneath their exchange.
As the niceties of the initial conversation fall by the wayside, they soon come to verbal blows, which reveal the darker side of their high school experiences. Carrol confesses that he went to the same church as Robert to be near him—and the muscular pastor. Robert has been ostracized by the community after a DUI incident, and he can’t find work to start a sober life anew.
Although Robert is the biggest loser in this play, all three are wounded. Carrol’s coping mechanism is to bury the shame of the past trauma with food, and Katie pretends to have a life with her paralyzed teenage daughter that includes shopping, tea parties, and games. In the end, Carrol’s mantra—“No unpleasant thoughts today”—reinforces the idea that the business of living is often hard work and the value is not always in what we think we should have, but in how we perceive and cope with what we actually have.
Jiggs Burgess’s Wounded plays through March 16 at the SoHo Playhouse (15 Vandam St.). Evening performances are at 7 p.m. Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays at 7 p.m., and at 6 p.m. on Friday, March 7, and at 8 p.m. on Saturdays; matinees are at 3 p.m. Saturday and 2 p.m. Sunday. For tickets and more information, visit sohoplayhouse.com/upcoming-events/wounded.
Playwright: Jiggs Burgess
Director: Del Shores
Set Design: Evan Frank
Lighting Design: Carter O. Ford
Sound Design: Adam Matthew
