Keilly McQuail and Jasmine Batchelor in Daphne
Photograph: Courtesy Marc J. FranklinDaphne

Daphne

  • Theater, Drama
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Time Out says

Theater review by Melissa Rose Bernardo  

In Greek mythology, Daphne was a beautiful dryad pursued so mercilessly by the lovestruck Apollo that, to avoid his advances, she transformed into a laurel tree. That tale of thwarted love serves as a loose inspiration for Renae Simone Jarrett’s ambitious but bewildering Daphne, now receiving its world premiere at Lincoln Center. But unless you’re extremely well-versed in old lore (or catch LCT3’s video chat between Jarrett and Jasmine Batchelor, the fine actor who plays the title role), you’re likely to miss the ancient allusion.

Daphne and her girlfriend, Winona (Keilly McQuail), are living in a house in the middle of nowhere, presumably to take a break from—or hide from?—the bustle of big-city life. Their only real companion is Winona’s parrot, Phoebus, who stays hidden in a sheet-covered birdcage. (Bonus points if you know that Phoebus is another name for Apollo.) Daphne’s pals Piper (Jeena Yi) and Wendy (Naomi Lorrain) pay visits, wondering if their friend is in the right place. “Like you left so quickly and we’re all worried,” says Piper. Perhaps they’re right to be concerned. 

Winona doesn’t care for visitors: “I don’t like it when people are on their way, coming here,” she says. “It makes me weird.” That’s a nice word for what she is. She flips out when Daphne walks to town for a library card, thinks the woman next door (Denise Burse, radiating warmth) is some kind of witch—”Like she comes in through the keyhole while we’re asleep and she enters my dreams”—and has what might be described as a Republican Congressman’s knowledge of the female reproductive system. Even more troubling, she carelessly knocks Daphne’s head against the wall and slams her finger in a door. It’s after the finger incident that something begins to grow on Daphne’s skin; its pattern, examined closely, resembles tree branches.

Jarrett and director Sarah Hughes weave other surreal elements into the play: vegetables that cook in the blink of an eye; a pie that appears out of nowhere; a crying baby in a kitchen cabinet; characters who exit through a window or disappear in a blanket; scenes that smash-cut from one to the next, as though in some kind of time warp. But these touches don’t add up to a cohesive alternate reality; they merely seem bizarre. One wishes Daphne went all in and embraced its mythological roots.

Daphne. Claire Tow Theater (Off Broadway). By Renae Simone Jarrett. Directed by Sarah Hughes. With Jasmine Batchelor, Keilly McQuail, Denise Burse, Naomi Lorrain, Jeena Yi. Running time: 1hr 30mins. No intermission.

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Daphne | Photograph: Courtesy Marc J. Franklin

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