Orange Flower Water

Wright’s 2002 study of marital infidelity focuses on a quartet of ordinary Minnesotans as their stable family lives break down. Marked by plainspoken dialogue and classical symmetry, it demands a precise, delicate approach to bring out the nuances in its characters without making them either banal or histrionic. BackStage’s production features some nice touches. Hutchinson’s staging in the round, centering on a bed that rotates from scene to scene, mirrors the unstable negotiations of the two couples. Bozzuto plays betrayed husband Brad with a tensile energy, suggesting he’s been waiting to snap for most of the 15 years of his marriage to Beth (Nixon). In one beautifully played scene, Kettering and Huysman capture the raw unpredictability of a marriage on the rocks, careening from sex to tearful isolation.
But as the adulterous pair who catalyze the drama, Huysman and Nixon never really strike sparks. Their scenes together have a tentative quality that belies the passion supposedly driving their affair. It’s a crucial absence; the failure to communicate exactly what draws them together renders somewhat hollow the ensuing exchanges of analysis and recrimination between the couples. In this relatively mild production, some of the tics in the former divinity student’s script become insistently visible: When characters raise questions about human connection or Beth and her pharmacist lover David debate religion, the themes seem forced. Wright’s characters might benefit from more reflection, but this production is at its best when their visceral impulses take center stage.




