Time Stands Still

A riveting drama, "Time Stands Still", running at the world-famous Steppenwolf Theatre through mid-May, is good on so many levels it's hard to know which elements to isolate for praise. Written by Pulitzer Prize-winning scribe Donald Margulies and directed with finesse by ensemble member Austin Pendleton, this production induces laughter, tears, and horror.

It also forces an utterly painful recognition of the universal struggle to manage our moral duty to humanity while remaining true to ourselves and those we love.

The plot of Margulies' wonderful creation is one that speaks to the world's recent sociopolitical struggles as well as efforts to adjust to a global culture that moves faster than we can chase it. Star photojournalist Sarah Goodwin (marvelously played by Sally Murphy) has just returned from a harrowing ordeal in war-torn Iraq. The don't-call-me-victim collateral damage of a roadside bomb, Sarah struggles with a body that fails to immediately allow her to get back up and continue documenting what she sees.

With a disoriented sense of purpose, Sarah returns home to the care of her long-time partner James, another journalist struggling with post-traumatic demons of his own. While grappling with his own anguish (which we come to learn is multi-layered where war and Sarah are concerned), James displays a selfless, unconditional devotion to his lover that pierces with its guilelessness. James Dodd is to be commended for an understated performance that is all the more compelling for its delicacy.

While nursing Sarah back to health, an effort she resents as much as appreciates, James admits that he might be ready for a quieter life: a little less danger, a lot less wandering, and perhaps even the conventions of marital stability.

Sarah is initially appalled, before a combination of gratitude and guilt (having survived a local lover in the bomb blast) leave her ready to take a leap of faith into the eight years of dependability she has enjoyed with James.

Hastening the decision: regular interaction with good friend Richard Ehrlich (Francis Guinan), Sarah's editor and ex-boyfriend. Richard is a happy fellow wittingly in the throes of a May/December relationship with event planner Mandy (Kristina Valada-Vilars). Richard has seen it all, ended fervent connections with independent, complex women and in the end, admits that he wants some simple adoration. And what after all is so wrong with that?

I have enjoyed Guinan's work for years in diverse Steppenwolf productions including "Fake" and "American Buffalo". Very few stage actors can rival his ability to balance comedy with pathos. As for Valada-Vilars, she takes what could be a clich� role and infuses it with sincere likability.

Though the plot ultimately follows Sarah's decisions, this is a small ensemble piece that simply would not work without the skill of each of the four players. And the technical merits of the play are equally enjoyable; in particular, scenic design by Walt Spangler ably transports his audience into an urban loft decorated with tapestries of denial, desperation and inevitability.

The actors work the set with the dexterity of people dealing with private pain in familiar surroundings. It is easy for audience members to feel like they have taken an uncomfortable seat to witness the middle of a slow-moving catastrophe.

Of many, many script highlights, I loved the play's meta awareness of the absurdity of the upper-middle's self-contained angst whilst soldiers and civilians lose their lives fighting for freedom continents away. And if anything, the drama turns that logic on its head and asks an important question: if one is so alien to their own story that they feel the need to chase danger and tell another, when is it time to stop?

In our social media-driven real-time culture, is it simply more satisfying to absorb shrapnel in pursuit of universal truth than to examine our own mundane limitations?

I won't give away the ending, but not all the members of this little urban family are destined for contentment. It is another testament to fine writing, direction, and performance that the denouement is not guessable. There are no bad guys in this story, just a few intelligent, fallible, well-meaning people making messes and trying their best to clean them up.

Theatergoers need not be familiar with the physical dangers of a combat zone to experience the fear, grief, and humanity woven deeply into the fabric of Steppenwolf's home run. "Time Stands Still" will leave you frozen in place long after the curtain falls.