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'Tribes' is a serious family drama

What begins as a tad talky (and unabashedly coarse) domestic piece soon enough takes wing.

Robin Abramson and Tad Cooley in Philadelphia Theatre Company’s production of TRIBES by Nina Raines, running at the Suzanne Roberts Theatre January 24-February 23
Robin Abramson and Tad Cooley in Philadelphia Theatre Company’s production of TRIBES by Nina Raines, running at the Suzanne Roberts Theatre January 24-February 23Read more

WHAT is a family?

Is it simply a collection of genetic-material-sharing human beings, or is it something more, perhaps a micro-civilization with its own customs, language, rituals and the like?

That's the question at the heart of "Tribes," Nina Raine's potent dramedy (with an emphasis on drama), staged by the Philadelphia Theatre Company through Feb. 23, at the Suzanne Roberts Theatre.

What begins as a tad talky (and unabashedly coarse) domestic piece soon enough takes wing and becomes not only a thought-provoking meditation on the family unit, but also a festival of first-rate acting.

The play mostly transpires in the home of a British family composed of two baby-boomer parents and their three grown children, all of whom are physically or emotionally handicapped.

The father, Christopher, is an academic-turned-writer who rules the roost with an iron hand and terrible, swift sword of a tongue (before the play is a minute old, he has twice used the "C" word).

His wife, Beth, is an aspiring novelist who pretty much holds the family monopoly on anything approximating compassion and empathy.

Oldest son, Daniel, pining for his ex-girlfriend and ostensibly working on a post-graduate dissertation, appears to be self-confident and hard-edged (though drifting through life) as things begin, but we quickly learn otherwise.

Daughter, Ruth, is similarly directionless. She has a misguided idea about an operatic career, and longs for someone - anyone - whom she can call "boyfriend."

And then there is Billy, who is deaf, but who has been raised by his brood to be apart from the local deaf community which, we learn, is as insular and prejudiced as any ethnic or religious group. Billy, an expert lip-reader (a key second-act plot point) is clearly the family favorite, far more thoughtful and even-keeled than his siblings. But he is also treated as something of a mascot by his family.

Though it's clear that these folks love each other at some basic level, affection tends to manifest itself in loud, nasty debates strewn with cutting, hurtful words.

Into this cauldron comes Sylvia, a sweet young woman whom Billy has met at a party. Sylvia, though born with normal hearing (to deaf parents), is rapidly losing it. She becomes Billy's entree into the world of the deaf. She teaches him to sign, something Christopher has forbidden, as he fears it will turn his son into an object of pity. But this newfound knowledge actually has the opposite effect: It gives Billy a real identity and a newfound sense of self-worth.

But Billy's growing independence has ineffably sad, if not tragic, consequences. It turns out that he is literally Dan's life force; the farther away from the clan that Billy gets (as in moving in with Sylvia), the more Dan deteriorates into mental illness (sparked by voices in his head), accompanied by the return of a childhood stutter.

It all could have been a slushy mess. But Raine's writing is well-leavened with snappy jokes. And the acting is a joy to behold, sharply etched, full-bodied and thankfully restrained.

While Alex Hoeffler's Dan could have been a carnival of scene-chewing, the actor reins it in and nimbly avoids stepping into caricature. His delineation of a young man spiraling out of control is quite impressive.

John Judd, as the patriarch Christopher, is appropriately overbearing and unsympathetic; Robin Abramson, as Ruth; Laurie Klatscher, as Beth; and Amanda Kearns, as Sylvia, all do plenty of heavy dramatic lifting as well.

But it is Tad Cooley, as Billy, who is the standout here: Not only is he making his professional stage debut, he actually is, like Sylvia in the play, losing his hearing. It is a stunning turn, and one that provides yet another reason to see "Tribes."

Likewise praiseworthy are Stuart Carden's unobtrusive direction and Narelle Sissons' realistic, lived-in-looking set.

Despite all this, "Tribes" isn't a grand slam. It threatens to get a little too grim in spots, and the surprisingly Hallmark-Channel-movie-like ending is a little jarring, given what comes before it.

But none of this keeps "Tribes" from being a resonant piece of grown-up theater guaranteed to stay with you well after the final curtain call.