Engagement Rules
Detroit Repertory Theatre refers to playwright Rich Orloff’s Engagement Rules as a comedy. Indeed, in this world-premiere production directed by Bruce E. Millan, the opening scenes — and many following — play that way, with seemingly harmless character differences leading to nonthreatening conflicts. However, the story that unfolds involves themes both heavy and profound, lending a slight but persistent tonal dissonance to the playwright’s study of clashing values and hard-earned communication and compromise.
The younger of the play’s two couples, Donna (Kelly Komlen) and Tom (Charlie Newhart), have an enviable connection that sparks from their first intimate moments onstage. Newly engaged, the pair’s fresh young passion is contrasted with the decades-married complacency and routine of their closest friends, empty nesters Rose (Trudy Mason) and Phil (Harold Uriah Hogan). The women used to be colleagues at an organization championing women’s rights until Donna took up the law school track; all four are established as gym buddies, conveniently making way for numerous Donna/Rose and Tom/Phil locker room scenes that add perspective and depth to the expected Mars and Venus material. There’s a lowest-common-denominator feel to the short opening vignettes, in which every beat is played with flinty contention straight out of a sitcom, regardless of whether it suits the nature of the conversation. Overall, the comic perspective works better for the misaligned Rose and Phil; as performers, Mason and Hogan have a field day blithely failing to connect, and every one of Hogan’s begrudging punchlines is a winner.
The simple planes of Harry Wetzel’s scenic design play with the symmetry and asymmetry of the couples’ lives, dividing its two living spaces with an adaptable common area engineered for quick set changes. The locales are cleanly delineated by Thomas Schraeder’s instructive lighting. Costume designer Judy Dery deftly cycles pieces in and out through numerous changing room heart-to-hearts, and Burr Huntington’s sound design is complimentary without being insistent. The overall effect isn’t showy in and of itself; rather, the production has a utilitarian feel of keeping ahead of its frequent changes in locale, which pays off in agreeable pacing that drives the plot through its two-hour duration.
Yet for all the laughter, the single-minded lightness threatens to choke out Orloff’s serious and measured look at actual difficulties between partners at all stages of their relationships. A simple difference of opinion takes Rose and Phil’s marriage in a new direction, as they barter sexual exploration for church attendance in a genuine (albeit humorously misguided) attempt to respond to the other’s changing needs. However, the most notable development is a foundation-shaking game change that threatens dire consequences for Donna and Tom’s future. Together, Komlen and Newhart bring terrific energy to their arguments and the stakes they represent, at once disavowing the silly stuff preceding it to make way for something all the more rewarding for the greater challenge it presents. The nature of the conflict remains a go-to choice where contention is concerned, but playwright and players both treat it with distinctive attention and respect befitting a pair of thoughtfully developed characters.
Millan and cast start Engagement Rules in a safe world of barbless bickering and foregone conclusions, then successfully morph the story into one of grave importance and illuminating growth; however winding, the path is ultimately redemptive and well worth the journey. Although the opening scenes are beguilingly light, viewers should arm themselves for an emotional and sincerely thought-provoking challenge that surpasses the jokey beginnings: an unprecedented peril that offers escalating returns and delivers on its promise.