Metro Pulse/Backstage/My Sister in This House

Comment
on this story

What:
My Sister in This House

When:
Thursday-Saturday at 8 p.m. through May 18.

Where:
Black Box Theatre

Cost:
$8/$12. Call 523-0900 for more info.

Not knowing the details of this taut thriller adds immeasurably to the experience

by Paige M. Travis

Sometimes when I review a play, I like to walk in with no idea what it's about. This approach is impossible if I've heard of the play before or there's a movie version or the media coverage has been extensive. But, mostly, because I've seen so few plays overall and the variety of those produced in Knoxville, I get to go in blind, with no expectations or preconceptions. It's a test to determine if the play makes sense without my already knowing what's supposed to happen. I want the story to unfold without my anticipating anything.

Now, publicity for the Actors Co-op's My Sister in This House is full of information on the historical background of the play, the characters it's based upon and the real events that transpired. I wanted no part of this so I avoided eye contact with the flier at a nearby coffee shop, closed my ears when a couple at said coffee shop discussed the play, didn't even read the program before the show. I didn't want to know. And I think my experience of this suspenseful play was enhanced by ignorance. Like a film whose tension and drama hinges on the element of surprise, My Sister in This House is worth seeing with blinders on before the play and eyes wide open during.

With that said, a review that keeps details to a minimum and mystery intact is a challenge. But, while leaving out the plot elements, the best way to approach Sister is through the most striking and satisfying element of the production: the acting.

This play displays the remarkable talents of its four actresses: Kara Kemp, Eisha Prather, Sara Pat Schwabe and Brandy Estep. They squeeze every last drop of intensity and emotion out of what is deep and solid material written by Wendy Kesselman. If Sister were a film, the director would overuse the close-up shot; each actress draws the viewer nearer and nearer, as if a spotlight is closing in on her face as she speaks. Each character comes alive and stands clearly apart from previous roles played by the actresses.

Christine Pappin is a far cry from the madcap characters in Kara Kemp's repertoire. She is sober and controlled, the perfect servant in Paris of the '20s and '30s. Christine functions as both older sister and mother figure for Leah, who is six years her junior. As Leah, Eisha Prather is wide-eyed and nervous as a rabbit. She watches her sister intently, follows and copies her precisely. Kemp is alternately affectionate and barely tolerant with her clumsy sister who is too needy, too dependent. Because they work together as maids in the Danzard household and share such a small room, there are no secrets of activity or mood between the sisters. Their intimacy is as entangled as a married couple's, and maybe more so because they share so much history—childhoods raised by nuns and a mother who shops them out as domestic servants. Since they are hardly demonstrative, every slight movement and change of mood speaks volumes.

Sara Pat Schwabe is amusing as Mrs. Danzard. Meddling matronly in her daughter Isabel's affairs, gossiping about the hired help, complaining about the neighbors—it's all handled perfectly by Schwabe's sing-song voice and expressive face. As she and her daughter eat meals together, play cards or sew in the parlor, her timing of every comment or response is impeccable and realistic. Schwabe captures the Everymom: aggravating, lovable, insane. Brandy Estep responds with irritated replies, passive-aggression and a rudeness that she dares to get away with. Their tense relationship is paralleled with the two sisters, who spend most of their time in the kitchen or in the tiny bedroom upstairs, never speaking to their housemate employers. A complicated question is posed by suggestion: How close is too close when it comes to female relationships? When does a mother or daughter or sister depend on another too much?

The set, the most elaborate and detailed in Co-op history, is a kitchen, dining room, staircase, upstairs bedroom and sitting room. This open house effect allows things to happen in different rooms at the same time, an effect that heightens the overall household tension. At one point, Christine polishes silver in the kitchen while the Danzards eat in the dining room. As the mother and daughter converse, Kemp's whole body language exudes an intensity that is as captivating as dialogue. The play is filled with moments like this, in which every little move or glance is riveting. We are as aware of these women as they are of each other—sister watching sister watching employers watching housemaids. Each under one another's microscope and all of them captured in our scrutiny.

If you already know the story behind Sister, don't worry about erasing your mind beforehand. Not everyone has to view it unschooled in the history. The play will hold surprises for those who've read the spoilers. If you find yourself as fascinated by these characters as I did, you can get on the Web and research the details of their lives. Knowing the true story after immersing yourself in the psychological drama of fiction could make your experience all that more unsettling—but in a good way.