Offsprung

“Well, this is the Forest of Arden,” fair Rosalind bluntly proclaims when she first arrives in the mythical wood in Shakespeare’s As You Like It. It’s a tricky thing, this scene-setting business, and if the Bard himself occasionally hit such blatant notes, what hope remains for playwrights of mere human caliber? Playwright Fallen’s got a plan to avoid such pitfalls: Sidestep exposition straight up to the 11th hour, when the audience realizes the protean plot’s so fragmentary it doesn’t demand one anyway.

Some could salvage a poorly plotted piece with fiercely wrought characters, but Fallen and her director make a series of fatal tonal miscues. Midway through the first act, a psychiatrist in training and his pill-addled younger brother argue over the merits of mood medication. “You’re an idiot,” shrieks the sure-to-be-sterling head shrink. “Are you retarded?!” The pair sinks into a Matrix -paced fisticuffs, culminating in furious wheezing. Combine Fallen’s incongruous dialogue with Johnson’s questionable casting of a diminutive doctor next to his oversize lug of a brother, and all you’ve got is a laugh-out-loud mismatch between two characters we hardly know.

By play’s end, the plot coheres around four damaged siblings who finally get reacquainted after their parents’ successive disappearances slacken their blood bonds. Rubicon’s actors provide portrayals that are earnest of characters whose motivations aren’t. (One sister remains mute throughout because she fears her voice curses the listener. Really?) Wooden exposition damages most budding playwrights’ efforts, but at least it doesn’t mar this vague sketch of human conduct until the final moments. And in that way, Offsprung still earns points for the sheer audacity of its missteps.