Lowcountry

It’s a common assumption people take things slower in the South. They’re more relaxed, they spend more time chit-chatting, sipping sweet tea and manners are crucial — everyone says, “sir” and “ma’am.”

Not in Lowcountry, Abby Rosebrock’s new play receiving its world premiere at Atlantic Stage Company. Directed by Jo Bonney, Rosebrock’s engrossing but unsettled drama depicts a first date that moves at a breakneck speed emotionally. Rather than polite small talk and a tentative kiss goodnight, this evening includes buried secrets, shocking confessions and intimate exchanges that would typically be revealed much farther along — if ever — in a relationship.

This oversharing is not surprising when the two parties involved in the date bring as much baggage as David (Babak Tafti) and Tally (Jodi Balfour) do. A divorced father living in a sparse studio apartment and working as a cook at Waffle House, David’s depressing conditions are the result of a crime that landed him on the sex offender registry and a spot in Sexaholics Anonymous, complete with an overbearing, obnoxiously pious sponsor named Paul.

Paul encourages David to date (without sex), as long as he meets his dates in public places to avoid any temptation. But Tally, David’s recent Tinder match, declined his suggestion of a picnic, so David’s lengthy, at times tedious conversation with Paul that opens the play, includes the lie that they are meeting in public, even as he prepares his apartment to host her for dinner.

It's easy for him to multitask while Paul pontificates about what David should and should not do that evening. His moral proselytizing, peppered with self-satisfied posturing and racist comments, rapidly becomes tedious. If David follows the rules, Paul’s lawyer will help him get visitation rights with his son — but those are rules that Paul establishes. Keith Kupferer nails Paul’s smug patriarchal way of speaking — he reminds David that he “needs to be grateful” that he made it his “mission and penance” to guide “deadbeats” like David out of sex addiction, hinting at just enough menace to so the audience knows his motives aren’t pure.

It's not easy for David to follow the rules once Tally arrives. Striding into his apartment in high-heeled sandals, she quickly makes her intentions for the evening known, and they’re not limited to the pasta and wine David has prepared. Tally has returned to the South from Los Angeles. Unmarried, child-free and in her late thirties, Tally doesn’t hide her disappointment with her life or various other subjects like capitalism and the criminal justice system. Despite meeting for the first time, Tally and David immediately leap into philosophical discussion about honesty, emotional health and purpose in life.

Their rapid-fire dialogue quickly establishes a melancholy connection between the two, as David tentatively shares his history with Tally and she, her motivations for meeting by a white family with David that night. Both are isolated and excluded from “proper” society — him being adopted and Tally being single in her late thirties. Their conversation includes commentary on the millennial lifestyle. Throwaway lines like Tally’s, “People keep calling you brilliant, but no one pays you” (about pursuing a career in the arts) and Paul warning David he might never be able to buy a house: “…if guys like me keep buyin’ BlackRock … I don’t envy y’all’s generation.” Further exploration of these themes would hav rendered Lowcountry a more timely, relevant production.

It’s impossible to avoid the harsh reality of the circumstances that led to their meeting in Arnulfo Maldonado’s grim set, unforgivingly lit by Heather Gilbert while Sarah Laux’s costumes enhance the impactful performances by the three cast members. Tafti is a quietly powerful presence onstage, his nervous fluttering showing desperate he is to hold together the threads of his precarious situation. The most moving moment takes place when, alone in his apartment, he listens to voicemails of his son from happier times. Balfour’s performance is less even, which can be credited in part due to her consumption of wine and pot as well as her conflicting feelings for David. The pair’s chemistry shifts quickly throughout the night, as their interactions go from friendly to antagonistic to sexually charged, but it always feels honest.

Ninety minutes, no intermission and just three characters, Lowcountry packs a great deal into its brief running time. Its exploration of doing morality and the motivations behind them is intriguing but would benefit from some refinement. David’s crime, revealed after lengthy buildup, is surprisingly not as scandalous as suggested and inspires contemplation on if the punishment fits the crime. But perhaps it’s fitting that the resulting play is vague and inconclusive, like the legal system itself.

Published June 30, 2025

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