When people talk about the cost of living in New York City, the upper class can sometimes over-represent the city in this respect. A fair misconception, seeing as the rich can obtain highly coveted jobs, all the while constantly moving to whichever neighborhood suits their fancy at a given time–even putting their stamp on some of the less developed areas of different boroughs. Conversely, the majority of New Yorkers end up working their whole lives to stay afloat in these same neighborhoods in parts of Brooklyn and Queens. Lang alumna Derek Spaldo’s Playground, which premiered August 21 at The Brick Theater, gives an unfiltered and unabashed voice to these heroes of the city.
“That’s kind of what I’m dealing with in the show,” Spaldo told the Free Press, “in a very small way because it’s just about how people interact on a daily basis at a bodega, but with the pressure of their economic and social position.”
Set mainly within the confines of a bodega in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn, Playground creates a world alive with plenty of urban New Yorker colloquialisms that are bolstered by their onstage presence. What starts out as a dryly comic portrayal of four people’s stubborn personal biases inevitably escalates into outright physical violence.
“There is the sense that the characters are stuck in a cycle—that cycle being bitterness, resentment, and anger—which is sort of like a legacy passed down through generations,” Spaldo said.
With each scene, the characters all bring their own idiosyncratic flavor to the show. Chris and Ezekiel play the bodega’s cashiers, and their performances—both in the play, and for one another—are complete with the entire range of masculine bawdiness, several times veering into misogynism. From this standpoint we are led to judge them at face value, for better or for worse.
A neighborhood gas station owner starts coming regularly and quickly develops an ugly rapport with Chris, although in some ways the two are similar, both easily given to overreaction to what they perceive as disrespect. The combination of one being young and disaffected, and the other accomplished but jaded, sets the ball rolling for the high-tension climax.
Some of the inspiration for Playground came from a coffee shop in Brooklyn where Spaldo was working at one point. Many aspects of the show’s dialogue evolved from the conversations that took place between co-workers. “I just would write down stuff they would say complaining about our boss, or they would catcall women at work,” said Spaldo. “It’s sort of a commentary but it’s like a way into the character.”
The cast was able to rehearse the play for a full year before its opening in August 2014, which allowed for the characters to fully develop and be instrumental in guiding the plot. “I first heard about the character about a year and a half ago,” said Aron Canter, who played Ezekiel. “The genesis of the story is stuff we heard on the street, but we developed it in rehearsals so it was eventually able to work as a play.”
Spaldo described the piece as “anti-dramatic,” in that it embellishes very little on dialogue from actual reality. Due to this aspect of the writing, nothing prepares the audience for the way the legacy of violence is revealed in full.
“With everybody’s life, there’s always something intense going on, no matter how mundane it might seem,” Spaldo said.
The next time we see someone on the subway who looks like a seasoned, slightly jaded looking construction worker in uniform, we might think of the gas station owner in Playground who has adapted to survive and prosper under adverse circumstances but still doesn’t know how to fully empathize with others.
Linus is a Literary Studies major at Lang. He enjoys seeing dope music shows and cooking dope ass meals in his spare time. He hails from Seattle, WA and left there to get away from the perpetual grey weather and become a full time New Yorker instead. He plans to write fiction as a career (knock on wood) and travel a lot.
