Not often does a show or movie come along that makes one question their life choices, or at the very least stop to appreciate the one they have been given. Off Broadway drama Blackout Songs has a bit of a title misnomer. Alas, this is not a musical, nor does it contain a bevy of songs. Instead, this dark drama, penned by Joe White, weaves a complex web of addiction and romance. Owen Teague (Griffin in Summer, Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes) and Abbey Lee (Mad Max: Fury Road, Black Rabbit) make for a compelling two-hander that visits chunks of their lives as they both spin wildly out of control. In the authenticity, a deep love emerges that neither character may be willing to embrace. Part rom-com, part harbinger on the dangers of alcoholism, the intimacy of Blackout Songs brings an aching realism to the stage with imagination and creative staging.
The stage at The Susan & Ronald Frankel Theater at the Robert W. Wilson MCC Theater Space lays all its cards out well before “Her” (Lee) and “Him” (Teague) stumble into their first Alcoholics Anonymous Meeting. The multi-use space presents as a big open gym/auditorium containing a coffee station, stacks of chairs, a piano, a podium with a cross, and tall windows with massive curtains. Blackout Songs utilizes every inch of its stage, calling on its characters to “blackout” through multiple points of their lives as their paths constantly cross. Are they toxic, or is that just the alcohol? In lesser hands, this concept could feel disjointed. Certainly, the impetus of Her and Him’s relationship pulls us in, but before we can get fully invested, the time flashes forward to a future event. That it plays out this way though is strictly by design. Even their names (or lack thereof) hold meaning. As a formula begins to emerge, the duo present as incredibly layered but deeply flawed.
The format itself gives us a window into Her and Him as they view each other before any “blackouts” occur. Their meet-cute happens at an A.A. meeting—Her looks glamorous in sunglasses and a faux fur coat, whilst Him stumbles over in a neck brace and a jean jacket. Him stammers and stutters his way through small talk, eventually confessing that he quit drinking cold turkey… today. Her shields her insecurities through biting sarcasm and a wicked British accent. 1 in 20 people end up dead from cutting out alcohol the way Him has, she points out, which is pretty much exactly the last thing to tell someone who has made this choice. One thing leads to another, and very early on, referring to even a drop of alcohol as “medicine” becomes commonplace.
Though we as an audience witness the events as they nakedly play out before us, Her and Him seem less sure of their connection. The alcohol has clouded their memories, blending events, switching scenarios, and in some cases making up moments wholesale that never actually occurred. Lee and Teague play their respective roles with a vulnerability that makes us actually root for this relationship to somehow work itself out. Their romance may be doomed from the start. They meet at essentially rock bottom, but in finding one another, their insecurities and worst habits rise to the surface. Two truths can exist at once: Him and Her are bad for one another, but they also hold a deep, unmistakable bond. White’s prose sees these characters being tender and playful together, not just fighting and miserable. They don’t stumble around drunkenly, nor do they resort to any physical abuse. There are no outward statements being attempted about the legitimacy of this relationship. Instead, White allows us to observe Her and Him as they are, trying to make sense of a world that seems devoid of color without alcohol to supplement it.
Sparing use of lighting and jarring music interludes emphasize the distinctions in the movement of time and vignettes. With just two people onstage at all times, much of the wider scope relies on the viewers’ imaginations to do set-specific heavy lifting. The rest has been pared down, an intimate grip on two lovers as they gradually grow more intertwined. The actors are asked to go on their knees, to spit up blood, to dance, to embody emotional damage through monstrous physicality… never are Lee and Teague not up for the task. As White splices in religious subtext amongst the true meaning of love, Blackout Songs quietly evolves from a good show into one that will be unshakeable. At times deeply upsetting and at others moving or hilarious, Blackout Songs contains multitudes. White’s acting showcase stands as a riveting piece of theatre that lingers long after the curtain call.
Unspool the complications of memory and addiction in Blackout Songs, now showing Off-Broadway. For ticketing information, head over to the official website.
