Horsedreams

The devil may be in the details, but strong playwriting depends on them. Case in point: In "Horsedreams," when Mira, an African-American nanny and housekeeper, contrasts the floors and furnishings of the elegant apartment where she works and those of the shabby apartment where she lives, down to the cigarette holes in her couch, Dael Orlandersmith's four-character monologue play comes alive. The two halves of Mira's world are also brought into sharp focus as she describes the white businesspeople from Westchester County walking from the Metro North station at 125th Street in Harlem to the nearby subway to go to their offices downtown. As both writer and actor (as Mira), Orlandersmith gives these word pictures three dimensions, as if they were happening right in front of us. She has made her reputation by creating insightful portraits in solo shows such as "Beauty's Daughter" and "Liar Liar," as well as in "Yellowman," her Pulitzer Prize–nominated examination of racial identity. Mira is another fascinatingly rich, real character in Orlandersmith's gallery.

Unfortunately, Mira's story is coupled with that of her employer, Loman, an upper-class white lawyer juggling his crushing workload and the responsibility of being a single father. The first half of this 95-minute play is taken up with Loman's courtship of and marriage to Desiree, a wild party girl who fails to settle down as a suburban housewife and dies of a drug overdose three years after giving birth to a boy, Luka. Son and father mourn their loss in vastly different ways. Luka dreams of the toy horses his mother gave him and later loses himself in riding on actual steeds at an expensive stable. Loman returns to the drug habit he shared with Desiree, becoming addicted to heroin (nicknamed "horse," though Orlandersmith wisely avoids the obvious metaphor by never mentioning the drug's street name). Mira, who is struggling to become a nurse and whose family has its own sad drug history, comes into their lives as Loman is spinning out of control and Luka needs a parent figure.

While Orlandersmith does give Loman and Desiree detail-rich speeches on the allure of drugs, the characters never exist outside of their addictions. They seem to be illustrations of the dangers of cocaine and smack, complete with alcoholic parents to explain their need for substance abuse. Luka is one of those preternaturally bright children who exist only in plays, movies, and TV shows, a small adult.

In addition, too many of the dramatic devices strain credibility. It's hard to believe that a 10-year-old kid like Luka, no matter how mature, would make a drug deal by himself and confront his dad with the results, or that the realistic Mira, no matter how much she loves Luka, would offer to take him in if Loman doesn't get clean.

Gordon Edelstein's sure-handed direction and the intense performances make up for these flaws. Most of the text is spoken directly to the audience, with occasional interaction among the characters. Though the script tells rather than shows, Edelstein manages to make the action vital and conflict-filled, aided by Marcus Doshi's lighting and Ryan Rumery's sound, which transport us from loud, shadowy discos to neighborhoods both pristine and poverty-stricken.

As noted, Orlandersmith eschews histrionics and gives a matter-of-fact and quietly moving rendition of Mira. Michael Laurence and Roxanna Hope painstakingly chart Loman's and Desiree's slow succumbing to the ecstatic physical sensations of shooting up, almost making the concomitant degradation understandable. One has to admire thoroughly professional young Matthew Schechter for handling a huge role like Luka. He almost overcomes the contrivances of the part and the play. Still, there is much to savor here, and for actors seeking new monologue material or an example of a cast sparking a difficult format, it's well worth a visit.

Presented by and at Rattlestick Playwrights Theater, 224 Waverly Place, NYC. Nov. 17–Dec. 11. Mon., Wed.–Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 3 p.m. (No performance Thu., Nov. 24.) (212) 279-4200 or www.ticketcentral.com. Casting by Calleri Casting.