GayFest! presents Chad Beguelin's 'Harbor'

Van-schooled

Their happy life is invaded by Kevin's sister Donna, a failed wedding singer sporting pink and blue hair highlights and mismatched sneaker laces who refuses to grow up. She’s sort of raising her teenage daughter Lottie (Rachel Berkman), who Donna calls "wicked smart -- like, Asian smart."

"I'm van-schooled," Lottie quips, because that's where they live — in an old van which, Kevin discovers, smells like "hundreds of feet."

They become long-term house guests (a "Blanche Dubois situation," Kevin jokes ruefully) after Donna reveals that she's pregnant. Until then, the script by Beguelin, a two-time Tony Award nominee for writing and composing The Wedding Singer, is a culture-clash comedy. Donna, whom Lottie calls "a klepto homeless woman who smokes weed," ends most of her sentences with "and shit.” She’s oblivious to her own contempt for her brother's sexuality, calling their town "Fag Harbor." Ted instantly dislikes her, and the resulting family skirmishes are universally familiar.

A surprising proposal

When Donna, sensing Kevin's longing for more purpose in life, suggests that the couple adopt her unborn child, a big clash is inevitable. Ted and Kevin bonded over their "mutual hatred of other people's children," vowing never to become parents. Harbor explores the need to parent, the obligations demanded by family, and the continuing struggle to define and direct one's life.

All four characters have strong, clear needs that emerge in a huge Act II confrontation; that all wear party hats through it is a brilliant, ironic touch. Director Rich Rubin balances the fun and the serious skillfully, and the play's complicated relationships emerge genuinely. Snow boldly makes Donna as selfish, immature, and impulsive as she needs to be, yet still, despite our instincts, sympathetic. University of the Arts student Berkman is a believable young teen, smart enough to realize how deficient her upbringing has been, achingly awkward, and curious about the normal life she's been denied while pressed into parenting her nomadic mom. Kevin and Ted are likewise complicated and convincing; though clearly devoted, they've settled into relationship roles that neither fully accepts.

This all comes to a spectacular boil, building to a conclusion that's more complex than expected, to Beguelin's credit. It's refreshing to see a play defy expectations and not take the easy, obvious path.

As with My Favorite Husbands, Harbor's physical production serves the play without frills, keeping our focus where it belongs: on characters who, long past the tribulations of coming out, discover that living out is more complicated than they imagined — especially when family comes calling.

To read Mark Cofta's review of My Favorite Husbands, click here.