Graceland

If you’re thinking Memphis, don’t. The reference in Fairey’s clunky but amiable dramedy is to Chicago’s Graceland Cemetery—and it’s set over that distinctly nerve-rattling August weekend we call the Air & Water Show. How’s that for local color? And yet, aside from providing great fun for terrific sound designer Mikhail Fiksel, who gets to create the impression of the Blue Angels thundering over our heads, it’s unclear if there’s a point to Fairey’s setting.

The playwright’s tale of two adult children—the lonely prodigal daughter Sara (Barrie) and her fuck-up brother who stayed behind (Burgher)—reuniting to bury their dad at Graceland is rife with unnecessarily specific details about life on the North Side. Chicago-centric touches aside, Graceland’s story, in which Sara drunkenly hooks up with an aging lech (Cox, in a variant of his usual mojo) before making an odder connection with his squirmy teenage son (Challinor), is packed with coincidences that are as predictable as they are unlikely.

Miller’s production suffers from herky-jerky pacing and uneven tone. Challinor, a teenage actor asked to shoulder much of the play’s emotional heft, acquits himself admirably enough, while the always-radiant Barrie does what she can to create a journey for Sara that doesn’t exist in the script. As “grace” goes, Fairey seems to be invoking the “quality of mercy” sense; despite occasional glimmers, her play doesn’t feel graceful in any other capacity.

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