Review: A Drowsy Night at ‘Grief Hotel’
Absurdist theater is like the naturalistic play’s overachieving older sibling. Traditional theater attempts to describe the chaos of the human condition, but absurdist works dare to enact it. Liza Birkenmeier’s play, “Grief Hotel,” is one of those enactors. It is a strange, snack-sized play that concludes Clubbed Thumb’s 2023 Summerworks series, which is known for incubating unique plays.
Birkenmeier, known for her deft writing in previous works like “Dr. Ride’s American Beach House”, brings her talent for morbid humor to “Grief Hotel”. Despite its title, the play is actually a dark comedy that amusingly captures the madness of grief and the complexities of millennial relationships. However, while the play successfully portrays entertaining oddness, it falls short in delivering its message and sustaining intrigue.
The mastermind behind the concept of a grief hotel is Aunt Bobbi (played by Susan Blommaert), a straight-shooting character. She is trying to present her idea to the audience, but Birkenmeier interrupts with a series of conversations among younger characters who are grappling with their own sense of loss: Em (played by Nadine Malouf), Winn (played by Ana Nogueira), Rohit (played by Naren Weiss), Teresa (played by Susannah Perkins), and Asher (played by Bruce McKenzie).
While some characters are dealing directly with death, “Grief Hotel” focuses more on the impermanence of relationships than the impermanence of life. The play presents a complex web of connections among the characters, with Em and Winn having been college girlfriends, Em now in a relationship with Rohit, Rohit being attracted to Teresa, Teresa already in a romantic partnership with Winn, and Winn having a sexual fling with Asher, a straight, married man. On top of that, Em’s main source of attraction is an A.I. chatbot named Melba, who she imagines to look exactly like Winn.
On the surface, this salacious cross-pollination might sound entertaining. However, without enough exploration of these characters or sufficient time to fully invest in the complexities of their affairs, “Grief Hotel” feels more like a vague social experiment about impulse and desire rather than a thought-provoking, character-driven theater piece.
The play intentionally embraces vagueness. The scenic design by a group called dots dresses the set in the drab, midcentury décor of a three-star motel. Tara Ahmadinejad’s languid direction fails to inject much-needed energy into the production. The lack of unifying energy reflects our fractured, digital dating era (a significant part of Birkenmeier’s script involves text messages read aloud), but personally, I found it exhausting in real life.
At times, I wondered if the hotel served as a purgatory for these partnerships, an anxiety-inducing space where relationships either die or thrive. However, the play never fully explores this idea or any other conclusion. Towards the end, Aunt Bobbi suggests that gratitude for past and future memories shared with loved ones is the remedy for the group’s literal and metaphorical mourning. This realization, more than time or medication, begins to heal all wounds. Despite the play’s flaws, I was grateful for the reminder.
Grief Hotel is running until July 1 at the Wild Project in Manhattan. For more information, visit thewildproject.com. The running time is approximately 1 hour and 20 minutes.
This review is supported by Critical Minded, an initiative that invests in the work of cultural critics from historically underrepresented backgrounds.
Absurdist theater is like the naturalistic play’s overachieving older sibling. Traditional theater attempts to describe the chaos of the human condition, but absurdist works dare to enact it. Liza Birkenmeier’s play, “Grief Hotel,” is one of those enactors. It is a strange, snack-sized play that concludes Clubbed Thumb’s 2023 Summerworks series, which is known for incubating unique plays.
Birkenmeier, known for her deft writing in previous works like “Dr. Ride’s American Beach House”, brings her talent for morbid humor to “Grief Hotel”. Despite its title, the play is actually a dark comedy that amusingly captures the madness of grief and the complexities of millennial relationships. However, while the play successfully portrays entertaining oddness, it falls short in delivering its message and sustaining intrigue.
The mastermind behind the concept of a grief hotel is Aunt Bobbi (played by Susan Blommaert), a straight-shooting character. She is trying to present her idea to the audience, but Birkenmeier interrupts with a series of conversations among younger characters who are grappling with their own sense of loss: Em (played by Nadine Malouf), Winn (played by Ana Nogueira), Rohit (played by Naren Weiss), Teresa (played by Susannah Perkins), and Asher (played by Bruce McKenzie).
While some characters are dealing directly with death, “Grief Hotel” focuses more on the impermanence of relationships than the impermanence of life. The play presents a complex web of connections among the characters, with Em and Winn having been college girlfriends, Em now in a relationship with Rohit, Rohit being attracted to Teresa, Teresa already in a romantic partnership with Winn, and Winn having a sexual fling with Asher, a straight, married man. On top of that, Em’s main source of attraction is an A.I. chatbot named Melba, who she imagines to look exactly like Winn.
On the surface, this salacious cross-pollination might sound entertaining. However, without enough exploration of these characters or sufficient time to fully invest in the complexities of their affairs, “Grief Hotel” feels more like a vague social experiment about impulse and desire rather than a thought-provoking, character-driven theater piece.
The play intentionally embraces vagueness. The scenic design by a group called dots dresses the set in the drab, midcentury décor of a three-star motel. Tara Ahmadinejad’s languid direction fails to inject much-needed energy into the production. The lack of unifying energy reflects our fractured, digital dating era (a significant part of Birkenmeier’s script involves text messages read aloud), but personally, I found it exhausting in real life.
At times, I wondered if the hotel served as a purgatory for these partnerships, an anxiety-inducing space where relationships either die or thrive. However, the play never fully explores this idea or any other conclusion. Towards the end, Aunt Bobbi suggests that gratitude for past and future memories shared with loved ones is the remedy for the group’s literal and metaphorical mourning. This realization, more than time or medication, begins to heal all wounds. Despite the play’s flaws, I was grateful for the reminder.
Grief Hotel is running until July 1 at the Wild Project in Manhattan. For more information, visit thewildproject.com. The running time is approximately 1 hour and 20 minutes.
This review is supported by Critical Minded, an initiative that invests in the work of cultural critics from historically underrepresented backgrounds.
