NEW YORK—Whether sitting next to strangers on an airplane or waiting in line at Starbucks, we don’t think much about most strangers we cross paths with. Yet if we did, what would we say to them and, more importantly, what would they say to us? This is the premise behind Keith Bunin’s drama “The Coast Starlight.”
Now at the Lincoln Center, the work offers a tantalizing glimpse into numerous unspoken conversations from a group of people all searching for an innocence they’ve lost.
The story takes place on the train of the title, on its multi-stop journey from Los Angeles to Seattle. Among the passengers are T.J. (Will Harrison), a Navy combat medic who’s seen too much on the battlefield and is currently on leave; Jane (Camila Canó-Flaviá), who works as a cartoon artist and hopes to one day to direct her own movie; Noah (Rhys Coiro), a former Army solider with his own demons from his time in the service; Liz (Mia Barron), who finds herself rather unexpectedly unattached; Ed (Jon Norman Schneider), who drinks in an attempt to keep his despair at bay; and Anna (Michelle Wilson), who wonders if she should tell her children a family secret she’s long kept hidden.
Each passenger’s story will remain a mystery to the others. What’s revealed instead is what might have happened if these people had interacted by way of anything more than a cursory conversation. Thus, in one version of the story, each of the characters connect only slightly. Such as when Noah and T.J. recognize each other as fellow servicemen, or when T.J. happens to see a picture Jane has sketched of him. Yet, in a different reality, they all have deeper and more lasting communications with one another. These second dialogues and internal thoughts also help to provide insight into the makeup of each of the characters.
The main protagonist in the tale is T.J., who feels, if he’s sent back to combat, he’ll be changed forever, although as Noah notes, T.J.’s experiences have already changed him. As T.J. struggles to decide whether to return to duty or become a deserter, the rest of the passengers act as different manifestations of his conscience as he plays out possible scenarios in his head.
This same process also occurs to different extents with the other characters. All of which help to provide a fully-rounded picture of everyone depicted, and allows the audience to emotionally connect with each of their stories.
Just as each person has lost something dear to them, be it innocence born of ignorance, youth, or expectations, the play makes clear the importance of starting over and beginning again.
Hand in hand with this is the idea one must never totally give up on hope. This is particularly true with Ed who, after a series of personal and professional hardships, has long since abandoned the idea of ever climbing out of the pit in which he has found himself. Yet the idea of someday doing so is the only thing that keeps him going.
The Performance
Tyne Rafaeli directs the work with a sure hand. The result is an involving tale filled with questions and possible outcomes, along with an underlying tension and the occasional softer interlude. An example of the latter happens when Anna offers T.J. the use of her sleeper car after she observes how tired he is. Another is when two of the characters spar with each other, or would have, had they had they met under different circumstances.
The structure of the show keeps one guessing until the very end, with a final moment filled with seemingly endless possibilities. Yet, for one of the characters, the number is very low.
Harrison is perfect as the conflicted T.J., trying to balance responsibilities with the fear of losing himself forever. Canó-Flaviá’s performance strikes the right note as an artist more content to sketch what she sees around her than actually becoming a part of it. Barron offers a telling portrait of a self-absorbed persona, as well as providing a bit of acid-tongued comic relief.
Schneider is excellent as someone you’d want nothing to do with when he initially appears, yet, by the end, we see how he feels things far more deeply than first imagined.
Wilson strikes a nice note as someone who sees the life she has built suddenly threatened, while Coiro’s character projects the feeling of one ready to explode at a moment’s notice.
Arnulfo Maldonado’s set is a good fit for the story, his efforts nicely complemented by Daniel Kluger’s original music and sound work. Lighting by Lap Chi Chu is also strong and figures importantly in the show’s final moments.
Everybody has a story to tell, even though we may never be aware of a good many of them. In the case of six strangers on board “The Coast Starlight,” these stories are told quite well indeed.
