Teenage New Yorker Eugene Morris Jerome (Isaac Capp) doesn’t hold back when it comes to discussing his favorite daydreams, from playing for the Brooklyn Dodgers someday (this is 1937, mind you) or seeing a naked woman for the first time. The 14-year-old learns most about puberty and female anatomy (“the Golden Palace of the Himalayas” and other body parts) from his 18-year-old brother, Stanley (Cameron Vargas), who he shares a room with.
Eugene even confides in Stanley about his secret crush on their first cousin, 16-year-old Nora Morton (Romy Evans), whose bedroom is right next door to theirs. Nora, her mother, Blanche (Polly Firestone Walker), and younger sister, Laurie (Jana Price), moved into the Jerome household after the untimely death of their patriarch, a working father only in his mid-30s before dying of cancer.
These are just a few of the complexities engulfing the Marian Theatre’s thrust stage during PCPA’s production of Brighton Beach Memoirs, Neil Simon’s semi-autobiographical coming-of-age dramedy. Set in Depression-era New York on the eve of World War II, PCPA’s scenic designer Jason Bolen encapsulates both the show’s intimate and global anxieties through a compact two-story set—living room and dining downstairs and bedrooms upstairs—which helps symbolize the multi-faceted dynamic between the two families living under one roof.
To make ends meet while supporting both families, Eugene’s father, Jack Jerome (Don Stewart), works two jobs. Or he did prior to when we meet the character. It’s revealed early on that one of said jobs has been terminated, due to the company going under. The position was that of a salesman selling party favors door-to-door. Makes sense; can’t imagine a high demand for noisemakers those days. The ever-increasing jobless are starving and war is on the way; what’s left to celebrate?
To make matters worse, Stanley’s job is in jeopardy after he purposefully insults his employer while defending one of his peers who was treated unfairly.
He’s not the only one afraid of discussing his day at the dinner table that evening, as Nora is nervous to disclose a dancing opportunity she’s been offered on Broadway. But the role would keep her from graduating high school, against her mother’s wishes. All the while, what our young narrator Eugene fears the most is having to finish his plate of liver, far too tough to chew in one sitting he says, before leaving the table. His mother, Kate Jerome (played with stern but motherly perfection by Kitty Balay), is on to his ploys, as he offers to leave hurriedly to start washing dishes before clearing his own. She also grows suspicious of Eugene constantly dropping his napkin, on purpose to stare at Nora’s legs under the table—catching a glimpse “halfway up her thighs that led to the Golden Palace.”
Becoming immersed in the Jerome and Morton families’ struggles through Eugene’s youthful eyes adds a refreshingly naive aspect to each dramatic revelation. Near the end of the show, so much has happened that he declares one of its final moments as marking the end of his childhood.
Rich, subjective storytelling aside, this production’s excellent cast is more than up to snuff, especially Capp as Eugene, whose energetic interludes steal the show every time.
Arts Editor Caleb Wiseblood has never tried liver. Chew him out at cwiseblood@santamariasun.com.
This article appears in Feb 20-27, 2020.