STAGE WEST: "The Mercy Seat" at OnStage Playhouse

Aleksander D'Avignon and Ray-Anna Ranae in "The Mercy Seat."                           Photo by Daren Scott

            Playwright Neil LaBute has described what his characters in “The Mercy Seat” engage in for an hour and a half as “emotional terrorism.”
            This may or may not be (but probably is) a reflection of the setting for this 2002 two-hander: a Lower Manhattan loft within horror-producing proximity to the World Trade Center site the day after the Sept. 11 attacks.
            That’s where we find Abby (Ray-Anna Ranae) and Ben (Aleksander D’Avignon), two typically unlikable LaBute protagonists who in spite of the first few minutes of the storytelling have made 9/11 mostly about themselves. Ben especially. Reluctant/unable to tell the wife he’s been betraying for three years that he’s all right in the tragic aftermath he hits on an idea: pretend he was killed in the terror attack so that he and Abby can run away and be together with new lives.
            Did I mention he has a couple of kids too?
            LaBute seems to revel in brutality in the perhaps ironically titled “The Mercy Seat.” The invective-laden confrontations between Abby (who happens to be Ben’s boss too) and Ben are brutal. Their indictments about their sex life are brutal. Their recriminations are too.
            My issue with “The Mercy Seat” is I don’t buy this relationship at all beyond the purely sexual. Are Abby and Ben so angry and wound up and unhappy because it’s the day after one of the most deadly days in American history? Or do they just not like each other that much anyway? Lust, yes. Love, meh. Like, your guess is as good as mine.
            It’s to director Jenn Peters’ credit at OnStage Playhouse and to the visceral performances by her two actors that “The Mercy Seat” is simmering theater in spite of the flaws of its script and its characters. Ranae has definite presence on the stage, and D’Avignon can yell to bring the rafters down.
            When it comes down to it, “The Mercy Seat” is an hour and a half of a relationship-in-crisis. Ben’s craven idea for escape from his marriage aside, the Sept. 11 (well, Sept. 12) backdrop is almost incidental. Yes, the older (by 12 years) Abby accuses Ben of not being “heroic,” and there are references to people walking the ash-covered streets posting photos of their missing loved ones, but there are practically as many references to the Amazing Kreskin, Audie Murphy and Guy Burgess – means of emphasizing the age gap between these two discordant lovers.
            This September will mark a quarter-century since 9/11. In that time, artists in all disciplines have tried to reflect what it meant and what it means. I’m still waiting for one of them to get it right.
            “The Mercy Seat” runs through March 29 at OnStage Playhouse in Chula Vista.