Meet the Brother and Sister Who Literally Become ‘The Trees’
A sister and brother—somewhere in Connecticut, in a time stipulated by The Trees playwright Agnes Borinsky as “now or soon”—are a little drunk after attending a party. On Parker Lutz’s plain white stage, with its classical-harking columns and multiple ledges, Sheila (Crystal Dickinson), the sister, takes a tumble and David (Jess Barbagallo) follows her. She can’t find the keys to their house, signified by a door we can see.
There is an element of fairytale absurdity or an unreality about them and this play (Playwrights Horizons, to March 19) and its all-white setting which is allegedly the middle of the countryside. Sheila says she doesn’t want to sleep in “the little bed.” David says she can join him in “the big bed.” The tone is one of innocence rather than incest, yet their closeness is pronounced. She is Black, he is white.
And then, just as in a fairytale, night falls and something mysterious and inexplicable happens in the darkness. As day breaks, they cannot move their feet. Their toes have become roots. They have become trees, or humans who can speak and do everything else as usual bar move—because their toes have become roots and they are rooted to the ground. They don’t seem that freaked out by it. Their worries are, as in any unpredictable delay, about missed flights and appointments. Thankfully, they do have little seats to perch on, and seasonally appropriate clothing—they are still human, despite their roots now being below ground.