STAGE REVIEW : ‘Tears of God’: Some Grave Misgivings

Appalachia seems to be the theater’s territory of the moment.

First we had the Pulitzer Prize-winning “The Kentucky Cycle” at the Mark Taper (a largely symbolic Appalachia); then “Unchanging Love” at the Fountain Theater (still running); the Los Angeles Theatre Academy’s now-closed “The Grapes of Wrath” at City College (an Oklahoma-California setting, with spiritual roots in Appalachia) and finally “The Tears of God” at the Burbage Theatre.

As a vehicle for four actors, this folkloric Bruce Gadansky elegy on generations has a certain lyrical elegance. It also has Salome Jens and Shawn Modrell, both of whom could rescue the phone book from oblivion. But “Tears of God” is not a play by any but the most extreme stretch of the imagination. You might say it talks you to death, since it takes place entirely in a small country graveyard. For all of its respectably poetic forays into language, it remains lazily undramatic, enamored of its words and unwilling to deliver anything more compelling than conversation.

Its preoccupations are basic: love, life, death. The little cemetery we observe holds the bones of the McAllisters and Tourays, families joined by marriage.

We witness a scene from the courtship of Kathleen Touray (Shawn Modrell) and William McAllister (an elegant performance by Michael David Edwards) in the 1920s, then fast-forward to an autumn afternoon in the ‘50s when a mellower Kathleen and William are played by Jens and Clifford David. And finally we watch as more distant generations--Jens as “Gran” Kathleen now, and Modrell as granddaughter Jane--come together to share thoughts and pull vines encroaching on the tombstones.

Andy Griggs is more traffic cop than director and seems content to let this script speak for itself which, of course, it does. Right into the ground. No surprising conclusions are derived from the chatter and Gadansky’s language has an unnerving habit of standing in the way of its own clarity.

Only in the third scene does the drift of the conversation grow easier to track, mostly thanks to the powerful combination of Jens and Modrell on stage. But these penetrating actors and their male counterparts are largely wasted propping up a nonplay that doesn’t know dialogue from dramaturgy.

“The Tears of God,” Burbage Theatre, 2330 Sawtelle Blvd., West Los Angeles. Fridays-Saturdays, 9 p.m.; Sundays 7 p.m. Ends June 21. $15; (310) 478-0897). Running time: 2 hours.