PlayMakers Repertory Company's Production of "The Wolves" is Powerful, Evocative, and Unforgettable

The cast of PlayMakers Repertory Company's The Wolves. Photo by HuthPhoto, courtesy of PlayMakers Repertory Company.

Sarah DeLappe’s 2016 play, The Wolves, which was a 2017 finalist for the Pulitzer Prize for Drama and is onstage now at PlayMakers Repertory Company, centers around a team of young female soccer players. Set only in “an indoor soccer field somewhere in suburban America,” it gets up close and personal by providing close looks at the players as they meet for games. Through their warm-ups and conversations, the viewer comes to know a lot about each athlete. DeLappe’s carefully-constructed dialogue reveals pieces of each player’s puzzle, bit by bit, just enough to give the audience a full understanding of each character while still maintaining a delicious ambiguity that allows viewers to draw their own conclusions. 

It is through these self-drawn conclusions that the magic of DeLappe’s writing fully makes itself known. Personally, I am reminded of E.E. Cummings’ charming line of poetry: “it’s always ourselves we find in the sea.” It is ourselves that we find in this vast ocean of a play, in the blanks we fill in, in the suspicions we hold, and in our response and reaction to each player, especially near the end of the story as unfortunate events unfold.

While DeLappe’s writing deals with heavy topics, such as genocide and abortion, it also deals with teenage tropes, like menstruation, divorced or moving parents, the struggle to fit in, and that unending sense of pressure that has become increasingly common among young people. Through fast-flying, often-overlapping dialogue, we come to see all that these girls grapple with, and we enter into the sweet, strangling space they occupy: a space where you have the world ahead of you, tons of time to figure life out, and the impenetrable belief that you have to have all the answers at that exact moment. Having been a teenage girl once myself, I can relate. In fact, any viewer who is or has ever been a teenager will relate, regardless of the distance between adolescence and the present.

All of this action takes place on Yi-Hsuan (Ant) Ma’s beautifully designed set. It’s made to look like a gorgeous, lush green field, but because it’s indoor soccer, all that pretty grass is synthetic. It looks real, just like the girls look like real adults, and yet that grass is only a beautiful facsimile. A Gatorade vending machine and a portable toilet loom in the distance, further reminding viewers of the reality of what they’re seeing and of the messy, imperfect life that awaits when each game ends.

So, who are these girls? That’s a tough question. Though they entertain and enlighten us for a fast-moving ninety minutes, most remain nameless throughout. Identified mainly by the numbers on their uniforms and their distinctive looks and hairstyles, each one is fully realized and authentic. Yet, with characters who don’t quite know themselves yet, there’s, as mentioned, a lot of guesswork and blank filling involved.

Player #2, delightfully portrayed by an innocent-eyed Swetha Anand, is filled with good intentions and a general sense of cluelessness about the world, while player #7, brought to life by Elizabeth Dye, brims with angst, bravado, and intensity. Dye, decked out in a swinging ponytail, creates a character who leaps off the stage, a character you’ll want to both hug and scold. To say the least, she evokes a response. When she’s not discussing boys or clashing with #25 (Lily Kays), the team captain, she’s joined at the hip with her best friend, #14, acted by a striking Caroline Marques, who always has something going on behind her character’s eyes. Likewise, Kays is always busy in her characterization and effectively portrays #25’s conflicting identities as team captain and “just one of the girls,” not to mention other confusing identity questions that linger in her character’s mind. There’s also an often-scared and often-silly #8, portrayed by Jadah Johnson; a lively, jocular #13, acted by Katie Stevens; and the brainy #11, portrayed by Delaney Jackson.

While #7 and #14 effectively function as one set of “leads,” the other leading duo is more disparate, with each member living in a world of her own. As #00, the team’s goalie with a tendency to vomit from anxiety, Mengwe Wapimewah is wonderfully strong and vulnerable, a powerhouse combination that makes viewers both admire and worry about her character. Here, Wapimewah acts mostly with her body and her face. Her lines, while powerfully delivered, become almost secondary to her impeccable physical characterization. For #46, acted by an endearing Celeste Pelletier, it’s the opposite. Her words bubble and brim over the surface, revealing a lonely free spirit of a character who both wants to fit in and remain her own person. Pelletier brings a quiet strength and a lovely, baby deer awkwardness to her characterization.

And, while it might seem like all these characters do is talk, nothing could be further than the truth. Director Aubrey Snowden, who also stepped in at Wednesday night’s performance to play the “Soccer Mom” role to perfection, has these athletes moving at almost every moment. From stretching in a circle to passing a ball around, they are always doing something that draws the eye and maintains visual interest. Some moments, aided by Abigail Hoke-Brady’s skilled lighting techniques, even happen in slow motion. The characters move in a film-like manner, so much so that they seem to take up much more space than just what the stage offers.

As these characters jostle, kick, and converse, they’re slowly building up to an impactful ending that ushers in real life and leaves viewers feeling both gutted and contemplative. This is not the kind of play you watch and instantly forget. It stays with you, lingering for days or longer, and firmly implanting each character in the mind. It is tender, fierce, strong, and real, exactly like the young women at its heart.

-Susie Potter