Courtesy New Mexico Actors Lab
How I Learned To Drive By Paula Vogel | Directed By Emily Rankin
From left, Alex Kutsko, Mary Beth Lindsey and Scott Harrison tackle playwright Paula Vogel’s How I Learned to Drive.
Li’l Bit sits in the driver’s seat and pauses for a moment to adjust her mirrors. For her, the car is all at once a symbol of liberty and of a past she will never escape. As she angles her center rearview mirror, a faint spotlight illuminates the face of her Uncle Peck in the back seat. The New Mexico Actor’s Lab’s production of playwright Paula Vogel’s How I Learned to Drive puts on full display the tension between coming of age, loss of innocence, control and freedom. Despite the occasional stumble, solid leads and excellent writing culminate in a challenging and effective viewing experience.
Originally premiering in 1997, Vogel’s play remains unsettlingly timely. Its exploration of grooming, consent and the blurred boundaries of affection and authority continues to resonate in a post-MeToo world. What makes How I Learned to Drive remarkable is its refusal to moralize. Instead, it trusts the audience to sit in discomfort and find empathy without absolution.
Vogel’s Pulitzer Prize-winning script plays a little bit like a dream by swiftly moving through formative moments in Li’l Bit’s upbringing—mostly those surrounding her relationship with her sexually abusive Uncle Peck. Using driving as a metaphor, the work blends dark comedy and empathy to examine the control and manipulation inherent in the incestuous, pedophilic relationship. A cast of three additional players act like a Greek chorus while portraying the additional characters surrounding Li’l Bit and Uncle Peck’s relationship, but the show’s focus stays firmly on our leads while occasionally providing valuable insight into the worlds of gendered power and misogyny that our characters inhabit. Vogel’s treatment of Uncle Peck is notable for its ambivalence. He is equal parts pathetic and predatory, tender and terrifying. The New Mexico Actors Lab production does little to break from this depiction, banking instead on the appeal of mostly strong performances and Vogel’s nuanced writing.
The roughly two-hour long memory play is presented fairly predictably with little technical gimmickry to stand in the way of its performances. Simple sets occupy different portions of the stage, allowing for smooth, subtle transitions to reinforce the feeling of moving through Li’l Bit’s psyche. The minimalist set decoration conveys a focus on the imperfect recreations of reality that make up our memories, though such pared-down presentation misses an opportunity to exaggerate the show’s dream-like presentation in favor of a more literal interpretation. Similarly, lighting and sound choices do little to further the themes beyond a baseline level of representation; How I Learned to Drive relies most heavily on the strength of its actors.
For the most part, the cast delivers. Scott Harrison’s portrayal of Uncle Peck showcases significant charisma with a performance that straddles the line between southern gentleman and calculated predator. Harrison’s delivery is calm and controlled, but with an ever-present sorrow that speaks volumes of his character’s troubled nature. Opposite Harrison, Mary Beth Lindsay takes on the challenging role of Li’l Bit. The script calls for an actor who can play a role spanning from early childhood and into adulthood, and Lindsey is mostly successful. Noticeable vocal affectation and body language shifts help make the childhood scenes more believable though some of Lindsey’s more theatrical choices break the immersion when juxtaposed against Harrison’s intense but naturalistic interpretation of the despicable uncle. Still, Lindsey’s performance is energetic and alive despite inconsistent accents and a few awkward line deliveries that impede some of the more meaningful scenes from reaching their full potential.
The Greek Chorus members embody their roles with varying degrees of success, though the unit falls a bit flat in the comedy department. Their job, however, is to provide ample room for the leads to deliver impactful performances, and in this they succeed. Chorus member Danielle L. Reddick, for example, presents a mid-show highlight during a monologue as Aunt Mary, Uncle Peck’s victim-blaming wife.
In a day and age where nuance is often ignored in favor of crowd-pleasing hyperbole and online chatter dealing in absolutes, New Mexico Actor’s Lab’s willingness to engage with such challenging material is commendable. NMAL Artistic Director Emily Rankin sits in the director’s chair on this one, and she’s managed to coax out a refreshing neutrality of perspectives. Coupled with the empathetic portrayal of its leads, How I Learned to Drive examines difficult subject matter in a way that encourages a developed take on consent and manipulation. To paint such scenarios as black and white would do survivors of such conditions a disservice and risk failing to demonstrate the complicated nature of the truths we so often don’t want to see. This reflects a genuine faith in audiences’ capacity for reflection. When the lights fade, Li’l Bit remains behind the wheel, the road stretching endlessly ahead—a survivor steering through the wreckage of memory, still learning to navigate.
How I Learned to Drive: 7:30 pm Thursday, Oct. 30-Saturday, Nov. 1; 2 pm Sunday, Nov. 2. $5-$40. New Mexico Actors Lab, 3205 Calle Marie, nmactorslab.com
