Steppenwolf Theatre’s “Another Marriage,” with Ian Barford, Judy Greer and Nicole Scimeca/Photo: Michael Brosilow
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In our fantasies, we imagine that a baby will be the equal care and joy of both parents.
In reality—it’s mom who goes through pregnancy and labor, mom who nurses, and mom who often loses the most sleep and wins the most smiles. Dad must accept that there’s a new god in the house, and he’ll not be anyone’s favorite for awhile. Not everyone passes the test.
“Another Marriage,” a play at Steppenwolf Theatre by ensemble member Kate Arrington, takes on the reality of how both the birth of a child and unequal career success can affect a relationship. It’s an honest, funny and moving play, with a deep understanding of the frailty of romance, and how bonds can take new shapes.
“Another Marriage” is the story of Nick (Ian Barford) and Sunny (Judy Greer), two aspiring writers who meet in a college lit class. Nick is so drawn to Sunny that he strips in front of her, outside, in the snow, in Chicago. Sunny could have called security. Fortunately for Nick, she’s intrigued.
They get married, but inequalities surface. Nick becomes a successful writer (in part, due to family connections and gender), while the verbally more adroit Sunny can’t find a publisher for her novel. She admits that one problem is that her story keeps changing, and she doesn’t know how to end it. Nick’s clumsy attempts to help are taken as an insult.
When the baby comes, Nick’s attention wanders, and he’s drawn to an adoring and much younger woman, Macassidy (Caroline Neff). Here’s someone to give him the worship he thinks he deserves. In the second act, relationships shift again after a medical diagnosis. In a Chicago Sun-Times interview, Arrington explains that her first play is based “a little bit” on what happened to her parents.
Steppenwolf Theatre’s “Another Marriage,” with Judy Greer and Nicole Scimeca (rear)/Photo: Michael Brosilow
The action is monitored by the child Jo (Nicole Scimeca), who acts as the show’s ringmaster, getting the audience to pipe down at the beginning, and typing subtitles (like “four months later”) onto an iPad that appear to surface above the set. She doesn’t directly get into the action until the end, when Scimeca projects impressive strength for one who has been in shadows for so long.
Terry Kinney, returning to the theater company he co-founded in 1974, takes the time to let the jokes land and the big moments register without much drag in the action, though the second act isn’t as tight as the first.
As Sunny, Greer is both queenly and down-to-earth, fierce and funny. Barford’s Nick is a self-centered bumbler, with a good heart but a long learning curve, while Neff’s Macassidy is surprisingly sympathetic as a naïve twit who grows beyond her idol. Her first scene with Barford should be familiar to any young person who has tried to impress an older artist—too many big gestures, nervous exclamations (“Awesome!”) and apologies.
Like Sunny’s novel, the play doesn’t resolve—it just ends, leaving the audience to imagine what happens to everyone after the lights go down. This isn’t a problem—not every play needs the sound of an axe on a cherry tree, or bodies all over the floor. “Another Marriage” is a bit of life, and life goes on, in unexpected ways.
“Another Marriage” at Steppenwolf Theatre, 1650 North Halsted, steppenwolf.org. Through July 30.
