THEATER REVIEW
“Informed Consent”
Grade: C
Through Nov. 8. 8 p.m. Wednesdays-Fridays; 3 and 8:30 p.m. Saturdays; 5 p.m. Sundays. $25-$30. Horizon Theatre, 1083 Austin Ave., Atlanta. 404-584-7450, horizontheatre.com.
Bottom line: More cerebral than heartfelt.
Many of us could watch Atlanta actress Bethany Anne Lind play just about anything. And that goes for her role as a prickly genetic anthropologist named Jillian in Horizon Theatre’s “Informed Consent,” too — at least, theoretically.
In Deborah Zoe Laufer’s cerebral scientific drama, Lind is entrusted to deliver all sorts of analytical facts and figures, lots of metaphysical mumbo-jumbo about humanity’s “collective DNA” and the biological mysteries and possibilities of the universe, like she really knows what she’s talking about, even when we don’t.
To say that Jillian might be suffering from “double anxiety” is barely the half of it. She confronts the scientific issues professionally as well as personally, pondering both the academic challenges of her work and the ethical considerations of her life itself.
As an ambitious researcher bucking for tenure at an Arizona university, Jillian embarks on a study of a dwindling Native American tribe, looking for a genetic explanation or solution to the rampant diabetes that’s plaguing them. For reasons not sufficiently clear in co-artistic director Lisa Adler’s meandering Horizon staging, Jillian’s decision to include their “migratory patterns” in the study is perceived as an “attack” on their heritage and culture, landing her in hot water with the university higher-ups.
Jillian also is blinded by science at home with her husband and young daughter. Her mother succumbed to Alzheimer’s while still in her mid-30s, and Jillian’s fate has been sealed by the same mitochondrial “glitch.” But, she’s conflicted about whether to test her daughter for the gene, or what ultimate purpose would be served by it. Before Jillian’s memories and faculties begin to fade, time is of the essence.
It’s as though Laufer, whose other (better) works include “End Days” and “The Last Schwartz,” is battling her own double anxiety here. The separate subplots cover enough ground for two plays; together in one, the combination eventually feels overreaching.
Portraying an assortment of past and present friends, family and colleagues, Adler’s supporting ensemble includes Neal A. Ghant, Tonia Jackson, Diany Rodriguez and Carey Curtis Smith. They remain positioned on the stage throughout, ready to jump into the story at a moment’s notice or keep things on track by prompting the action from the sidelines. “Wait a minute,” one of them may interrupt Jillian. “Back up. Give us some context.”
It isn’t to question Lind’s inherent talent to wonder, finally, if Adler has miscast the youthful actress, who never seems or looks entirely comfortable or believable in the part. She wraps her head around the character more persuasively than she takes it to heart. For all of its articulate intellectual dialogue, the performance lacks a certain emotional depth and dimension.
You can appreciate Horizon’s “Informed Consent” as a risky change of pace for Lind (after playing so many younger and less sophisticated girls), even if the idea doesn’t quite pay off. Call the show a case of mind over matter in more ways than one.
