A.C.T. presents Melissa Ross’ newest play, “An Entomologist’s Love Story” by Giovanna Sardelli at SF Playhouse — a jarring story of personal connection that’s more of an anti-love story than it is a love story. The play follows Betty (Lori Prince) and Jeff (Lucas Verbrugghe), two old friends and entomologists at the American Museum of Natural History; their sexual history is dropped in, and their tension is high throughout the film, especially as Jeff meets the nerdy, charming and high-pitched Lindsay (Jessica Lynn Caroll).
All in all, “Love Story” left me confused. I didn’t end up liking Betty, Jeff or Lindsay — but I think that was the point. Jeff and Linsday’s own quickly blossoming relationship is bizarrely mirrored by Betty’s rejection of Andy (Will Springhorn Jr.), a janitor who sits in on Betty’s lectures at the local university. At first, Betty is enjoyably sarcastic and teases Jeff for his own awkwardly nerdy tendencies — that “smart is the new sexy” type reminiscent of “Silicon Valley.” Nevertheless, she becomes exceedingly cruel and lashes out at Jeff for her own insecurities, leaving Jeff to defend himself and Lindsay, with whom he seems to actually have a meaningful relationship. As she does so, I began to get drawn to Jeff but struggled to pin him down as the main character — it seems like Ross didn’t quite know who she wanted as the protagonist, and their own romantic entanglements just devolve into a series of (admittedly convincing) scenes of taunting and witty banter that ultimately go nowhere.
“Love Story” unfortunately never achieves its true potential at A.C.T., leaving much to be desired in both its narrative arc and character development. Jeff never truly changes other than standing up to Betty, and Betty’s general unwillingness to open up or break out of her mold left me frustrated — I couldn’t pinpoint what “Love Story” was trying to question. Although rife with insect metaphors, they act as heavy-handed pieces that provide an interesting setting more so than a useful narrative and artistic device. The air between Jeff and Betty almost becomes uncomfortably unbearable to watch as they go around in circles, and Jeff’s new relationship becomes an adorable release from Betty’s constant rejection of every opportunity in her life.
On the other hand, SF Playhouse’s production design excels as usual — I’l admit, I enjoy spinning stages (last one I saw was in A.C.T.’s “Vietgone”), which “Love Story” utilized (with scenic design by Nina Ball) and was purely delightful. Starting the production off with a large screen, it spun to reveal a floor-to-ceiling display of insects of all sorts in glass boxes and shelves lining the wall alongside drawers seen in labs all across the nation (I particularly enjoyed two sliding desks on either side, which popped out every time the lab set was brought back). It gave the set a particularly clinical look, but nonetheless made Betty and Jeff’s fidgeting with the space all the more compelling — an elaborate yet effective usage of the space and production design.
Two swinging doors on either side of the relatively symmetrical set gave the effect of a back laboratory with Jeff and Betty’s desks on opposing sides. Swivel and rolling chairs allowed a significant amount of easy movement, complementing the dynamic of the two. Although the screen became a bit overdone at times, it helped to transport the set to a location by using a variety of projections and simple physical set pieces (including a fun fold out piece of fake vegetation and plush stuffed animals).
Although an intriguing concept, “An Entomologist’s Love Story” fails to do what it sought out to do — whatever that may be. SF Playhouse took a risk with Ross’ play, but ultimately, it doesn’t reach the bar of most Playhouse productions — a mess of disconnected romantic plotlines that don’t seem to lead to any cohesive point. “Love Story” might warrant a reading of the script to see where Ross was trying to go, but at this point, it doesn’t live up to the hype.
“An Entomologist’s Love Story” is playing at SF Playhouse in San Francisco until June 23, 2018.
Contact Olivia Popp at oliviapopp ‘at’ stanford.edu.