Book banning in the ’burbs: Moms clash in Steppenwolf’s ‘Adirondack Chair Circle’ premiere
“Adirondack Chair Circle” ― 3 stars
“This is the fight of our lives.”
That’s how three upper-middle-class suburban moms view their efforts to ban books they consider inappropriate in “Adirondack Chair Circle,” the new comedy by Barrington native Stephanie Alison Walker in its world premiere at Steppenwolf Theatre Company.
An attempt several years ago to remove a book about gender identity and sexuality from the Barrington High School library inspired the play, whose central dispute feels familiar. Supporters of book bans argue that parents should decide what their children read. Opponents say librarians and educators should decide what to include in the library’s collection.
Walker’s writing is lively and her jokes land. Her suggestion that would-be book banners’ motivation extends beyond concern for the welfare of children to a desire for power and relevance is an observation that bears consideration. The direction, by Tony Award-winner and frequent Steppenwolf collaborator Pam MacKinnon, is solid. And the cast — David Darrow, Katrina Lenk, Wendy Mateo, Caroline Neff and Sadieh Rifai — is top-notch.
That combination adds up to an entertaining evening of theater. But for a satire, “Adirondack Chair Circle” lacks bite.
Lenk, a Tony-winner for “The Band’s Visit,” plays middle-aged queen bee Banna, whose well-manicured backyard (the set is by Todd Rosenthal) serves as a weekly gathering place for like-minded crusaders determined to keep “dangerous books” off library shelves.
Beneath a cerulean sky and old-growth trees, leader Banna, firebrand Libby (Rifai) and the obliging Winona (Mateo) nibble on prosciutto and sliced figs from Banna’s specially curated charcuterie board while planning how to persuade the school board to ban books.
They occupy red Adirondack chairs surrounding a firepit while Crow (Darrow, who also plays a media consultant) perches nearby. An avian observer, Crow narrates the play, serves as its Greek chorus and bedevils Banna in a way that only birds can, by making deposits on her lawn furniture.
Opposing the women is single mom and law student Evelyn Grace (Neff), whom Banna describes as a “silver spoon socialist.”
As it turns out, a passion for pickleball unites Winona and Evelyn, who find common ground after they agree to keep politics out of the game.
The philosophical showdowns, when they occur, fall short. They unfold not as impassioned debates between characters but as monologues delivered to unseen school board members.
Neff’s pragmatic Evelyn urges board members to keep the books on the shelves and encourages parents to discuss the books with their kids.
“Our kids will be better for it,” she says. “Your relationship with your kid will be better for it.”
Lenk’s Banna counters with a request she considers reasonable.
“Keep the books, if you must,” she says, “but do not put them out on the shelves so that any kid can stumble across a book with dangerous themes.”
The women address the board but not each other. Walker tiptoes up to a face-to-face confrontation between literature defenders and would-be censors without delivering one.
Waiting for an expected confrontation that did not occur left this theatergoer unsatisfied. And while the monologues serve as fine showcases for individual actors, they feel like missed opportunities.
Instead, exchanges — sometimes passive-aggressive, sometimes subtly condescending — take place mostly between the “friends”: Banna, whose failing marriage and strained relationship with her nonbinary child have left her unmoored; sharp-elbowed Libby, who expresses her ire through personal attacks and threatening emails; and the conciliatory Winona, the follower with an open mind.
When it comes to laughs, “Adirondack Chair Circle” delivers. The battles between Banna and Crow are a hoot. An ongoing bit about grooming mines humor out of the characters’ fundamental misunderstanding of that crime and there’s a deliciously comic scene where Evelyn asks Banna to define “woke.”
Speaking of Darrow, the actor earns laughs for his brief turn as a toxically masculine media coach and for his wryly defiant Crow, whose wisdom surpasses that of his human counterparts. As for their fight against “dangerous books,” Crow has a simple solution.
“If you don't like it,” he says, “don’t read it.”
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Location: Steppenwolf Theatre, 1650 N. Halsted St., Chicago, 312-335-1650, steppenwolf.org
Showtimes: 7:30 p.m. Tuesday through Friday; 3 and 7:30 p.m. Saturday; and 3 p.m. Sunday through Dec. 13. Also 2 p.m. Nov. 25 and Dec. 2. No 7:30 p.m. shows Nov. 10, 18, 25, 26 and Dec. 1
Running time: 2 hours 30 minutes, with intermission
Tickets: $20-$167.50
Parking: Paid lots nearby, $20 in the Steppenwolf garage
Rating: For mature audiences; contains adult language and subject matter