It’s easy to get depressed about national politics. The people running things are nasty, brutish and eager to appeal to baser instincts rather than better angels.
As “The Balusters,” the story of a neighborhood association riven by prejudice and petty skirmishes, demonstrates, politics aren’t much better at the local level. The debate here may be over whether to install a stop sign at a dangerous intersection, but it’s just as heated, just as likely to erupt into savage attacks, as the ones that turned D.C. into a cesspool.
Written by David Lindsay-Abaire with a keen understanding of human nature and directed by Kenny Leon with a master’s skill for building onstage drama to a fever pitch, “The Balusters,” which debuts tonight at Manhattan Theatre Club, may be the most vital and timely show on Broadway this season. It’s definitely the funniest.
Set in Vernon Point, a historic district with big yards, wide boulevards and lovingly restored brownstones, “The Balusters” unfolds in the elegant front parlor of Kyra Marshall’s home. She’s recently moved to the area from Baltimore, drawn by the tree-lined streets and a family-friendly atmosphere she likens to Mayberry. Kyra, played by Anika Noni Rose, is quickly invited not only to join the Neighborhood Association, but to host its weekly meetings. There, the wine flows freely, and the topics range from stolen Amazon packages to the evils of vinyl siding.
Instead of hanging back, Kyra has something she’s desperate to get on the agenda. Her house sits on Palmer Road, a busy thoroughfare. She’s worried about her daughters’ safety and wants the board to ask the authorities to install a stop sign. That puts her in conflict with Elliott Emerson (Richard Thomas), a local realtor who rules the community organization with an aw-shucks demeanor that masks a cage fighter’s spirit. Elliott is worried that a stop sign or, heaven forbid, a traffic light, would hurt the esplanade’s aesthetics, and he’s not about to let Kyra have her way.
“You can stand at one end of Palmer and see all the way to the other end, and it’s just a clean line of stately homes and trees and nothing else,” Elliott rhapsodizes, his throat catching with emotion. “It’s like standing in an old postcard.”
His solution: Don’t let your kids play in the street. Well, that won’t do, and Kyra soon embarks on a mission to install the sign, one that draws in every member of the community board while exposing the tensions simmering just below Vernon Point’s dignified facade. Elliott reveres the neighborhood’s history — his family has deep roots in the community, and he grew up here — but he fails to appreciate who was left out of his overly idealized portrait of its past. He boasts to the other association members about the hard work it took to keep developers from leveling these brownstones and putting up “projects,” without thinking more deeply about who the neighborhood was being preserved for?
“It was lucky we got landmarked when we did,” Elliott says. “It put an invisible wall around us. At least
in our little citadel, things would stay as they were.”
But, of course, things didn’t stay as they were. Kyra, a Black woman, and other members of the association — such as Melissa (Jeena Yi), its Asian American vice president, and Brooks (a sublime Carl Clemons-Hopkins), a gay African American travel writer — are part of a new generation of homeowners who are changing the composition of Vernon Point. And though Elliott, who calls himself a proud Democrat, may not recognize it, he’s struggling to accept his newer neighbors.
“The Balusters” has a compelling premise: The small stakes of local government make its politics more vicious and bitter. But what elevates the play into something truly great is that Lindsay-Abaire refuses to make Elliott a conventional villain. Elliott loves his community, and he has been dealing with major medical issues. At some level, Elliott wants to preserve Vernon Point because to see it change would be to acknowledge his own mortality.
And while the audience’s sympathies are clearly with Kyra — only the most sociopathic preservationist believes keeping a view intact is more important than saving lives — she has her own blind spots. Kyra may be rich, but she had to climb up the socioeconomic ladder to get there. Yet that doesn’t prevent her from treating her housekeeper, Luz (Maria-Christina Oliveras), more as the help than as an equal. At one point, she betrays Luz’s confidence to bolster her side of an argument with Elliott. Nothing, it seems, is more important than getting the upper hand.
Rose and Thomas are thrilling to watch as they try to outmaneuver each other, but Leon and Lindsay-Abaire make sure the other members of the show’s 10-person ensemble get their moment to shine. Oliveras is fascinating as a woman who may not live in Vernon Point, but knows the community better than the people who have called it home for generations. Margaret Colin is a ball-busting scream as Ruth Ackerman, the organization’s treasurer, who is never happier than when she’s terrorizing Willow (Kayli Carter), the group’s wokest member. But the show’s MVP is Marylouise Burke as Penny, a daffy 70-something widow, who is shrewder than she seems. Penny’s back may be giving out, her barometric migraines may be killing her, but she’s been around long enough to know the score. If Burke doesn’t get a Tony Award nomination, there’s no justice.
“The Balusters” doesn’t offer a hopeful portrait of community government — it can be hard to see the virtue of having heated debates over dog poop disposal etiquette when the world is on fire. But you leave the play reminded of the importance of staying engaged. Today’s battle may be over erecting a stop sign. Tomorrow’s fight could have far greater stakes. Love your neighbors or loathe them, you still have to find a way to live with them.
