Four actors, Michael Chernicoff ’09, Forrest Hudes ’12, Tanya Jackson ’10 and Audrey Kim ’09, play 19 different characters, each with distinct mannerisms and incentives. Commenting on the difficulty of defining so many characters, Galella explained, “We always talked about back story. I think it’s so important for the characters to be real people with real histories.” Here each character certainly seemed to be. Chernicoff’s “feeling-less” character, claiming he has “a lot of deficiencies, not very many capacities,” cannot be hurt by anything that is not on his list of things to be afraid of. He is incredibly lovable, and a brush with love (an accidental encounter with Jackson’s character) eventually causes him to feel. More believable character performances come from Hudes and Jackson as they indulge in the almost painful chitchat that is all too characteristic of a run-in between ex-lovers. They exchange “you look greats” and beautifully convey the shadows of a painful history as they meet at a bar where, ironically, one is spending a lonely evening and the other celebrating her bachelorette party.
Aided by this wonderful character work, the literal conceptions of love are what make this play charming and unique. A couple struggles with their marriage (Hudes and Jackson), trying hopelessly to enjoy an afternoon of ice-skating when Jackson’s shoe goes missing. After continually pushing one another away in a chilly display of resentment, the two wonder what they are waiting for, and then Jackson’s shoe drops from the sky onto the stage in front of them. Literally, the other shoe has dropped, so now they can move on and let one another go. Another successful moment of literal love comes when a young woman (Kim) unloads giant bags (appropriately decorated with hearts) of love, returning them to her boyfriend and demanding that he also give her “all the love I gave you back.” She is appalled when he gives her only a tiny bag in return. The small bag did not mean she gave him no love over the course of their relationship. Instead, with nowhere to keep all of the love he had received, he had put it all into a very special gift, a ring.
Galella comments that, “So much of the stories and staging of the play are about being ‘almost’—almost making it, just missing it.” In an attempt to convey this sense of “almost,” Galella had to make specific directorial decisions. She had the main action of each scene take place off-center. She established a sort of “kissing zone” by a lamppost and staged moments of cold or sadness on the opposite side, providing a sort of physical gauge of happiness across the stage. Characters that were unhappy or unresolved would have trouble keeping still between these marks. Galella also made the fascinating decision to involve the stage crew in the story. The crew would interact with the scenery as if they were a part of the town and the magic within. As a result, the audience becomes completely engulfed by this world and the love that is possible there.
Galella commented, “‘Almost, Maine’ both embraces stereotypes and challenges them” by pushing them to the “magical extreme.” The play speaks to the universality of love. Each distinct character, although part of the same isolated town, finds extraordinarily different meaning in love and in life.