“The Net Will Appear” is the story of two houses, both alike in loneliness.
The houses are next to each other with a narrow but unbreachable gap between them. Each of the suburban southwestern Ohio dwellings has a flat roof that can be accessed from an upstairs window and is wide and secure enough to be used as a deck.
Or, as in “The Net Will Appear’s” case, a place of both privacy and refuge from tension or agitation within each house.
The stage right house, with a roof that looks as if it has some finished decking on it, belongs to Bernard, a 75-year-old who regularly hauls out a chair, a cooler loaded with a large bottle of Jim Beam, and a rocks glass that gets a fuller and fuller pour as Erin Mallon’s bittersweet play proceeds.
The stage left is occupied by Rory, a chatty nine-year-old — well, nine-and-a-half —who spies Bernard’s bourbon-laden retreats and works at enlisting him as a friend, something she can use as she copes with a home in which she is pretty much ignored by her mother, stepfather, and step sibling unless one of them wants to discipline or annoy her. There’s also a distant father and brother in Cincinnati who rarely see her.
Bernard takes to the roof for solace and to escape, sometimes on command, from a wife more and more affected by a trauma that likely happened decades before he and Rory meet, probably before Rory was born.
From the description, you can see the possibilities in Mallon’s play, which is receiving a pleasant production at Bristol Riverside Theatre through Sunday, February 22.
Mallon is aware of those possibilities. She easily supplies two hours of conversation between Bernard and Rory, he zigzagging from being a sarcastic curmudgeon to the caring, parental figure Rory craves, she being a non-stop vessel of information, curiosity, neighborhood gossip, family news, current schoolyard slang, and generosity. She often brings Bernard gifts and comes to her roof with toys that might invite play.
Mallon prepared well. “The Net Will Appear” is a catalog of conversational variety, laced with revelations that might be dramatic or funny and dialog that runs from caustic to soothing.
Mallon knows how to write a laugh line, and she knows how to keep Bernard and Rory’s talk sounding natural, even when Bernard is trying to dodge or make fun of Rory.
With all of this description, you knew there’d be a problem, and here it is. Despite Mallon’s verbal inventiveness and legion of situations and complications, and despite director Amy Kaissar establishing a snappy, lively pace while keeping the tone of the talk realistic and knowing when to slow down to let some sentiment breathe, “The Net Will Appear” never grows.
It runs in place. Bernard and Rory have 1,000 things to say. You know them thoroughly by the time “The Net Will Appear” ends. Yet, all the informational combinations and permutations Mallon provides are like a Ferris wheel rather than a roller coaster. The play moves, but its motion is never forward. Each scene and conversation brings you back to the same place and seems as repeat of itself in tone and content. For all you learn about Bernard and Rory, for all you come like and care about them, the plot development seems stagnant.
You always have the impression you’re seeing the same construct with different dialog.
“The Net Will Appear” is enjoyable because Bernard and Rory grow on you as they grow on each other. And because Richard B. Watson as Bernard provides whatever tonal variation there is, and Madeleine Julien as Rory is so adorable.
For all of its jokes, usually in the form of terse rejoinders or snarky comments, and all of its potential drama — Rory is truly neglected or misunderstood, and Bernard endured the same trauma as his stricken wife — “The Net Will Appear” never evolves. Sequences seem identical instead of new even though fresh information is constantly presented.
Frankly, I don’t see how one can improve on Amy Kaissar’s direction. I kept looking to find what might make a difference, and I kept coming back to the run-on nature of Mallon’s script.
And one other matter, a delicate one that I’ve agonized putting into words since seeing “The Net Will Appear” on its opening night (from which it has the potential to make its humor and depth attain more levels).
Lu Ann Cahn, a reporter with whom I worked at WCAU-TV (Channel 10 Philadelphia in its CBS days) said more than once, “The difference with you, Zoren, is you ‘just say it,’ no sugarcoating or preamble, just ‘in your head and out of your mouth.’”
I took it as a compliment, but now is a time for unwonted tact (and an obvious preamble).
Madeleine Julien is a refreshing talent. Her verve and animation is palpable. You do what Bernard can’t and fall in love with her, and Rory, her character, on sight.
Age nine, like Rory, Julien learned and delivered oodles of dialog, probably hundreds of lines and the inflections and facial expressions to go with them.
She lights up with stage with her liveliness. You know Bernard has to succumb to Rory’s persistence because Julien’s Rory is not giving up (except as a ploy) and because Julien melts you from her first climb out that window. She also unfailingly nails Rory’s one-liners.
So much is good and positive in Julien’s performance, and Julien is so stunningly winning and admirably unself-conscious, I regret the next thing — Lu Ann, you know I can’t help it. — I have to say.
Julien has a great career ahead of her, and she is unquestionably an asset, a strong asset, to “A Net Will Appear,” but for all of her personality, memory, and cheek-pinching cuteness, she needs to work on diction.
No doubt Kaissar and assistant director Teayra Bowden coached her. You can see their work, and not in a negative way. They have a diamond; their job is getting it out of the rough.
They’re almost there. “Natural,” “adorable,” and “winning” only go so far. At times, the speed with which Julien speaks, perhaps as a way to keep her lines rolling without hesitation, gets in her way. You get the gist of what Rory is saying, but it comes out in a ramble that obscures any fine points.
Julien’s delivery is far from monotonous, but it could be clearer and occasionally more audible.
Given the scope of Julien’s character, her age, and limited stage experience — her bio mentions mostly film roles and talent contests — her work and presence are remarkable. She should be one proud nine-year-old.
That said, there’s room for improvement and development. Slowing down her early readings a tick, unless it impedes line memory, is a good place to start. Julien can handle any physical aspect of her part and aces her big moments, but her verbal presentation requires work. Kaissar, Bowden, and co-star Richard B. Watson visibly aid her in this one glitch, but time Bristol’s “The Net Will Appear” might not have, may be the answer.
Richard B. Watson is not only a generous performer who leads his young, budding co-star and creates symbiosis with her, but a versatile actor who finds every cantankerous, agitated, curmudgeonly aspect of Bernard while eliciting empathy for his marital situation, one he works at despite futility, and sympathy for a sad incident, perhaps the saddest of all, in his life.
Watson shows the respite Bernard receives from self-medicating while indulging his wife’s pleas for privacy. If there’s any development in “The Net Will Appear,” it comes from Watson’s expertly calibrated performance, taking Bernard from irritation at Rory disturbing his roof visits to a genuine relationship between the neighbors and resignation about what he considers the most important part of his life.
Watson and Julien mesh well. He is exactly the kind of co-star she needs to give her a chance to shine. Meanwhile, he gives Bernard facets and depth that signal more potential in Mallon’s script.
Britton Musk’s set, the two houses with their prominent roofs, meets the simplicity required while giving a look at the conventional orderliness of the sitting room from which Bernard emerges and the colorful jumble of a bedroom from which Rory alights.
Linda B. Stockton’s costumes are equally on point, Bernard donning an array of retired-guy casual wear, Rory in a school uniform and play clothes and pajamas that speak of her age and time.
Carolina Ortiz Herrera’s lighting gives a sure sense of time. Eliana Fabiyi’s sound design adds to the reality of Musk’s setting.
The Net Will Appear, Bristol Riverside Theatre, 120 Radcliffe Street, in Bristol, Pennsylvania. Through Sunday, February 22. Showtimes are 7:30 p.m. Wednesday and Thursday, 8 p.m. Friday and Saturday, 2 p.m. Wednesday and Saturday, and 3 p.m. Sunday. Tickets range from $41 to $51 with military and child discounts available. www.brtstage.org or 215-785-0100.
