The Midwest premiere of Charly Evon Simpson’s “Jump” at Shattered Globe Theatre starts with a familiar dramatic setup but then takes it in an unexpected direction. Sensitively directed by AmBer Montgomery, it combines heavy themes with a surprisingly light touch for an engaging 90-minute one-act that makes us care about the characters.
Two very different sisters, Fay (Jazzma Pryor) and Judy (Jennifer Glasse), meet at their childhood home about a year after their mother’s death from cancer to help their Dad (Alfred H. Wilson) pack up and sell it. Judy, the older sibling, is impeccably put together, always on time, well-organized and has lived up to or exceeded expectations. Fay, the younger, is a moody loner no one even expected much from, least of all her disappointed father, who has retreated into booze.
The sisters spend part of their time trying to clean out their childhood bedroom, reminiscing about the past, squabbling and practicing bed flops, which send Judy into gales of giggles. There they find a photo of themselves with their mother taken the first time she walked with them across the nearby bridge she loved and that was her reason for wanting the house.
That bridge, which is very important for more reasons than are immediately apparent, looms large in the immersive, evocative scenic design by Regina Garcia and Lindsay Mummert. It essentially bisects the house: On one side is the second-floor bedroom; on the other, the closed front door hides many secrets.
Fay also takes to hanging out on the bridge at night and vaping. There, she encounters Hopkins (Jeff Kurysz), a long-haired anthropology grad student who may or may not be contemplating jumping to a watery grave. Resenting the intrusion, he plays the Proclaimers’ “I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)” on his phone and sings and dances along noisily to drive her away, but she instead surprises him by joining in, then calling him out on his rudeness. A tentative friendship is born.
As their friendship develops, the play explores various aspects of loss, grief, depression and suicide. Simpson captures the dynamics of family relations especially well, and the way the arguments between Fay and her Dad, and Fay and Judy escalate will be recognizable to almost anyone.
The playwright also is acutely aware of how impossible it is to know how another person is feeling or coping with pain, no matter how many times we ask. As Hopkins tells Fay, “Somebody can be all right. But nobody is fine.” In another scene, one sister asks the other over and over “How are you?,” and the effect is gut-wrenching.
By that time, we know the answer, sort of, but the path there is a twisty one. Simpson laces the story with magical realism, including the way Kay tosses her vape pen into the murky waters below the bridge, only to raise her arm in the air and have it land in her hand again (although it is invisible). She also sees and hears the lights flicker and sizzle, so much so that she thinks something is wrong with her brain.
There are plenty of clues that little is as it seems in “Jump,” but they only become evident near the end, and I don’t want to give away any surprises. One note of hope, however: Despite all the messiness and suffering, seen and unseen, making a human connection is possible.
“Jump” gets a bit repetitive and would benefit from some editing, but the first-rate acting and design — including spot-on costumes by Rachel Lambert, lighting by Levi Wilkins and original music and sound by Chris Kriz — help make it well worth seeing.
