There's so much to celebrate about Lindsey Ferrentino's Amy and the Orphans.
The play is not only one of the better things of the season but it manages to be funny, entertaining, well-acted, and a major victory for inclusion. Ferrentino's title character has Down Syndrome, and is played by Jamie Brewer, who also has the disease (as does her understudy, Eddie Barbanell. The play becomes Andy and the Orphans when he plays the role.)
Amy is never the butt of a joke, never a punch line, and is never exploited, as writers and directors often tend to do when dealing with disabled actors or characters. But of course, that's Ferrentino's intention. Amy has been locked away in group homes (some terrible, some good) her entire life, with limited time spent with her own family. She has had to fend for herself but has developed into a strong individual with likes and dislikes, and even has a boyfriend and a job. Amy has clearly had to overcome a great deal in her life, and yes, it's implied that she could've gotten even further in life had her circumstances been different. Amy and the Orphans goes where very few plays go these days, and it's a refreshing change of pace from the current offerings both on and off-Broadway.
The whole cast is terrific. As the "orphans," Amy's siblings, Debra Monk and Mark Blum are delightfully funny and neurotic, and avoid ever veering into being obnoxious. Jamie Brewer is also wonderfully impressive as Amy and Vanessa Aspillaga has great, funny moments as Amy's nurse but Ferrentino should've applied the "less is more" adage to the character. The play is organically funny and doesn't need intrusive comic relief. Still, Aspillaga shines as the one person in the play who really understands Amy as a person and not just a concept.
The play jumps back and forth between Amy and her siblings, Jacob and Maggie, as they deal not only the death of their father but with the realization of just what kind of life Amy has had (they saw her sparingly as a child, with most of their time spent at the cinema) and the guilt that overcomes them because of it, and scenes of their parents in the 1970s as they navigate a marriage crumbling due to the birth of a child with Down Syndrome. The scenes set in the present are great and engrossing; these are people you want to spend time with, you want to learn more about. However, the scenes set in the past are clumsy and tonally awkward. They don't tell us anything we couldn't already figure out; many people sent their developmentally disabled children away in the 1970s. What's more baffling is the fact that it seemed as though their marriage endured until their deaths, so why spend time with these people? I didn't find them likeable enough to really sympathize with their predicament.
What's worse is the last scene of the play, during which we see young Amy and her father at the movies. Her father is doting and loving, the opposite of what you'd expect to see from someone who has agreed to institutionalize his daughter. It's his wife who is pushing for putting Amy in a home during their scenes, and this last one just puts the blame on her completely.
Regardless, Amy and the Orphans is one of the season's stronger offerings, and a breath of fresh air among plays fighting to be the most timely and relevant. Sometimes all you need is a great idea and strong story-telling and acting.
The play is not only one of the better things of the season but it manages to be funny, entertaining, well-acted, and a major victory for inclusion. Ferrentino's title character has Down Syndrome, and is played by Jamie Brewer, who also has the disease (as does her understudy, Eddie Barbanell. The play becomes Andy and the Orphans when he plays the role.)
Amy is never the butt of a joke, never a punch line, and is never exploited, as writers and directors often tend to do when dealing with disabled actors or characters. But of course, that's Ferrentino's intention. Amy has been locked away in group homes (some terrible, some good) her entire life, with limited time spent with her own family. She has had to fend for herself but has developed into a strong individual with likes and dislikes, and even has a boyfriend and a job. Amy has clearly had to overcome a great deal in her life, and yes, it's implied that she could've gotten even further in life had her circumstances been different. Amy and the Orphans goes where very few plays go these days, and it's a refreshing change of pace from the current offerings both on and off-Broadway.
The whole cast is terrific. As the "orphans," Amy's siblings, Debra Monk and Mark Blum are delightfully funny and neurotic, and avoid ever veering into being obnoxious. Jamie Brewer is also wonderfully impressive as Amy and Vanessa Aspillaga has great, funny moments as Amy's nurse but Ferrentino should've applied the "less is more" adage to the character. The play is organically funny and doesn't need intrusive comic relief. Still, Aspillaga shines as the one person in the play who really understands Amy as a person and not just a concept.
The play jumps back and forth between Amy and her siblings, Jacob and Maggie, as they deal not only the death of their father but with the realization of just what kind of life Amy has had (they saw her sparingly as a child, with most of their time spent at the cinema) and the guilt that overcomes them because of it, and scenes of their parents in the 1970s as they navigate a marriage crumbling due to the birth of a child with Down Syndrome. The scenes set in the present are great and engrossing; these are people you want to spend time with, you want to learn more about. However, the scenes set in the past are clumsy and tonally awkward. They don't tell us anything we couldn't already figure out; many people sent their developmentally disabled children away in the 1970s. What's more baffling is the fact that it seemed as though their marriage endured until their deaths, so why spend time with these people? I didn't find them likeable enough to really sympathize with their predicament.
What's worse is the last scene of the play, during which we see young Amy and her father at the movies. Her father is doting and loving, the opposite of what you'd expect to see from someone who has agreed to institutionalize his daughter. It's his wife who is pushing for putting Amy in a home during their scenes, and this last one just puts the blame on her completely.
Regardless, Amy and the Orphans is one of the season's stronger offerings, and a breath of fresh air among plays fighting to be the most timely and relevant. Sometimes all you need is a great idea and strong story-telling and acting.
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