With a celebrated cast led by Julia Louis-Dreyfus in her Broadway debut, Jon Robin Baitz’s Other Desert Cities, currently in revival at the Hudson Theatre was highly anticipated. Lily Rabe, known for her fine work at The Public’s Shakespeare in the Park, and Joe Kerry, making his Broadway debut, round out the award-winning, versatile cast who are certainly well worth seeing. Of course, they do a yeoperson’s job in Jon Robin Baitz’s complex, tricky play which asks the audience to leap from well-placed humor and light-hearted tone to the darker side of sacrificial revelation which can and should release an emotional catharsis. Other Desert Cities runs through January17, 2027 at the Hudson Theatre.

Directed by Jon Benjamin Hickey Other Desert Cities doesn’t quite get to its expected cathartic, profound, heartbreaking result at the conclusion. It should land in expiation and forgiveness, and audience recognition that people can and do change, even staunch conservatives. The original production yielded that emotional lightening bolt. However, comparison between the original production which starred Stockard Channing, directed by Joe Mantello, and this revival is patently unfair. This ensemble will arrive at that needed result as the production settles. Importantly, the splendid cast pinpoints the characters and more importantly, they challenge an argument for viewing “the other political side” without empathy. At least for the Reagan era.

The play opens on Christmas Eve 2004 at the Wyth’s upscale home in Palm Springs (Scot Pasks’s set design is predominately sandy taupe and tonal compliments, as if the desert has symbolically moved inside and dried out the older characters emotionally.) Yet, the Wyth’s home evidences the Wyth’s care, stolid reserve and attention to detail. Indeed, organized perfection in the decor appears in every inch of the expansive living room. This even includes the huge, elegant, beautifully appointed Christmas tree backstage center, which sports a Star of David on the top, representing Polly’s Jewish heritage.

When we first see them, dressed in coordinated tennis outfits, Polly (Julia Louis-Dreyfus, a former film writer, and Lyman (Ed Harris), a movie star turned ambassador for the GOP, look serene. This attractive-looking, “with-it” couple reflect their happiness at having their adult children home for the holidays. With Brooke (Lily Rabe) and Trip (John Keery), they’ve finished an earlier game of doubles (tennis). Presently, they recoup, settle in for refreshments and prepare for last minute shopping and the evening celebration at the country club.

By degrees we learn about this family through the banter and lively conversation which reveals the parents’ politics (Republican), former circle of friends (Nancy and Ron occasionally, etc.), children’s politics (liberal Democrat), and other details about their lives. For example, their son, Trip (Joe Keery), produces his own “reality” TV show where he lives in LA. His show, which features celebrity juries who stand in judgment of the little folk, provokes Polly to wise-cracks. Interestingly, the “always on” Polly spills spiky one-liners often directed toward her children in response to their provocation or hers. Her gibes apparently keep them on their toes.

As we learn about Brooke we note the difference in her look than her parents and brother. For example, her drab, thrown-together shorts and shirt for tennis, her later jeans and shirt possibly reflect her politics or her emotional state. (Costumes are by Tom Brodecker.) During the discussion, we learn Brooke’s serve and tennis game have deteriorated. And we gradually discover that Brooke’s fictional first novel, a success, ended in writer’s block and a decade-long battle with depression. Also, she was hospitalized on the East Coast after a break down. Having gone through rehabilitation which her parents paid for and brother helped her through with her brother and aunt’s support, she wrote another book which she brought with her to share with the family.

As the coup de grâce, we meet Silda (Allison Janney), Polly’s sister, Brooke and Trip’s aunt, a recovering alcoholic and ferocious Democrat. Lyman very generously insists that Silda will be living with them, and they will watch over her, though Polly objects to this a distance from Silda’s hearing. Importantly, we note that though the sisters collaborated successfully writing in the past, in the present they’ve achieved detente only by sniping at each other sarcastically. Along with Silda, present for Christmas, we learn someone else hovers but never materializes except in a stray reference. Trip and Brooke had an older sibling in a depressive state who drowned himself. His loss which happened years before, Polly and Lyman mention sparely because of the grief and heartbreak.

Though the loss of their son devastated them which happened during the previous war in Viet Nam, they recovered and they make it through the days. Indeed, the humor helps them to keep it together as well as the agreement not to discuss the subjects that divide them, i.e. politics.

Thus, assembled before us appears to be a successful, self-satisfied family. The daughter’s edginess about her book evolves and like all hidden truths with this family, erupts and surprises by the end of Act I. Though the children “don’t discuss politics” for Christmas, we imagine arguments happened among them about the current war, the aftermath of 9/11, whose present Republican administration put troops in another desert. By the conclusion the symbolic parallel of deserts referenced in the title makes sense because families live with the consequences of wars and no one escapes. So even in tony Palm Springs, a family must live with the consequences of war, which an administration, whose party they supported then, has continued in wars to this current day.

Throughout these scenes in Act I, Julia Louis-Dreyfus shines as she and the cast volley sarcasm back and forth and Lyman referees and gently chides when someone goes beyond the lines and hits one out. Indeed, Dreyfus and Harris seem the old married couple in their element. This dynamic changes in Act II and Harris’ Lyman takes a stand. The ensemble and director follow the largely expositional script through to the end of the first act then finally arrive at the heart of the matter, perhaps too latently. However, Jon Robin Baitz deliberately draws out the family to mislead us into stereotyping them. Look for contrary clues.

What Polly, Lyman and Trip don’t know is what Brooke passively aggressively neglected to tell them so she might drop it like a bomb, face-to-face at Christmas, a time for love or revenge. She reveals to her parents that her second book will be released in the new year and excerpts will be published in The New Yorker in a few weeks. Wheeee!

Initially thrilled that Brooke finished a fiction book as part of her upward climb to health, they grow pale when she explains that instead, she wrote a memoir about her brother Henry and their part in causing his downward spiral during the Viet Nam war to his death. With Silda’s encouragement, she relates that their Republican, conservative, rejection of Henry’s lifestyle forced his drug use and deterioration and estrangement from family. Eventually, their nihilistic influence left him no choice but to commit suicide after his involvement in a cult bombing which killed a man.

For the past six years, Brooke gave voice to what she saw of her brother’s history. And she resolves, if Polly and Lyman can’t bare to speak of Henry, whose presence haunts them even to there being no photos of him anywhere in the house, then her book will memorialize him forever and tell how they drove him to end his life. Ironically, boasting of her self-awareness, Brooke assumes her well heeled parents, who fled Los Angeles after Henry’s death to hide in the desert, will take this new book in their stride. Wrong! Likewise, when she asks Joe Kerry’s Trip for support (Act II) his beautifully delivered response startles her. And Kerry wins the audience’s applause for his efforts.

In Act II, when Lyman and Polly finally appear from reading and filtering what the memoir is and does, they shock Brooke. Initially, saying he won’t read it, then begging her not to publish it, until after his and Polly’s deaths, Lyman realizes his words mean nothing. Meanwhile, Polly, having read through most of it says she will disown Brooke and never see her again if she publishes it. The sarcastic jabs in the first act dissolve into justifications, defenses and accusations until Lyman says he can’t go on. With a commensurate shock and awe, Polly and Lyman confront their daughter with her inaccurate, specious representation of Henry and the family history. They speak about the real casualties of war and what happened. Before our eyes, these leopards change their red spots. Even the sanctimonious Silda, too drunk to save Henry, rejecting his pleas for help so many years ago, exclaims, “Oh my God,” when she hears Lyman and Polly speak.

The conclusion is a tour de force with all the actors on board, whether you feel the empathy and “the world” which Lyman speaks of lifts from your shoulders or not. Indeed, the truth will out, happening at the right time. And no conservative or liberal should fear it, if it is under-girded with love.

https://otherdesertcitiesbroadway.com