PRIDE AND JOY Spins a Compelling Modern Tale
For its latest production, The Midnight Company – consistently one of the busiest theater companies in St. Louis – teams up with local playwright Colin McLaughlin to present Pride and Joy, a contemporary play about families and addiction. First presented as a reading at the St. Louis Fringe Festival, the full production, under the direction of Carl Overly, Jr., is surprisingly warm and funny, even as it deals with the serious subject matter.
At her request, the Moran family has gathered at the apartment of daughter Samantha (Sam) for an intervention, but she’s not there when everyone else arrives. And she didn’t specify who the intervention would be for when she set the family meeting. As they wait for Sam, her siblings and parents discuss just who it is they’re here to intervene – with each family member suspecting that they might be the target of concern. Tensions build as the family waits, with each member trying to deflect attention from their own struggles, ensuring that everyone is stunned when Sam arrives, announces that the intervention is for herself, and asks her family for their help and support. What unfolds is a thorough, sometimes heated and uncomfortable, exploration of family dynamics, what it means to own up to your own imperfections, and the courage it often takes to ask for help. The evening may not turn out as Sam envisioned it, but the family is stronger – and better – for her efforts.
As the super organized, solution-seeking Sam, Sarah Lantsberger is the catalyst and instigator of the intervention as well as a person who always thinks of other first, a trait she learned from her over-nurturing mother. The family is shocked when she mentions this is the third time she’s tried to get sober – no one even knew she struggled at all. Lantsberger radiates with sincerity and firm intention, expressively navigating a carefully planned event that isn’t turning out as she expected and fighting her need for control. Lantsberger’s finely tuned, if nervously on edge and eager to please performance is heartfelt and compelling – you might be tempted to jump from your seat and offer a hug.
As the Moran parents, Lavonne Byers and Joe Hanrahan are realistically flawed and yet perfectly complementary. Byers is constant movement and action – impulsively cleaning up in Sam’s apartment with more than a hint of side-eyed criticism, trying to manage everyone’s emotions and reactions, and seeming to value peace over honesty and self-reflection. Hanrahan is slovenly and stubborn but naturally amiable as Sam’s hard-working, hard-drinking father. He’s aware that he drinks too much, but he’s managed to maintain his career, raise a family, and stay out of trouble, so he can’t be that bad, right? Sam desperately wants her father to join her in recovery but realizes that’s something she can’t force him to commit to, an important “a-ha” moment for the entire family.
Alicen Moser and Jayson Heil are sympathetic as siblings Margaret and Christopher, with strong personalities and struggles of their own. Moser’s Margaret may be a bit flippant and Heil’s Christopher a bit aggressively defensive and, in his own words, an a-hole, but there’s genuine affection between the three siblings and loving concern, not anger or blame, towards their parents. Small revelations lead to moments of conflict and awareness for each character that are integral to a satisfying story arc. Like so many others, the Moran family is flawed but willing to try and change, genuinely supportive, and easily relatable.
Overly’s insightful direction makes space for the myriad emotions and reactions the family experiences, and the audience may lean into, while applying a light touch to the subject matter that keeps everyone involved and rooting for the family. Interjections of humor and clever use of music lifts the show, giving it the sense of familiarity, like a “very special episode” of your favorite television dramedy. Chuck Winning’s smartly conceived set design, Tony Anselmo’s warm lighting design, and Liz Henning’s contemporary costumes perfectly set the scene for a contemporary family dramedy. While I’m not sure if McLaughlin made significant changes to the original script, the produced play feels improved and more focused, avoiding a preachy or judgmental tone while still tackling the serious subject matter. Though addiction is so often associated with pain and loss, the thoughtfully proactive script takes audiences in the direction of possibility and recovery. Suitable for mature audiences, The Midnight Company’s production of Pride and Joy is an engaging and ultimately uplifting play that may trigger self-reflection but will leave you feeling hopeful.
