There’s something primal about one-on-one confrontations, and David Harrower knows it. The Scottish playwright’s acclaimed drama “Blackbird” pitted a middle-aged man against a woman with whom he once had an affair — back when she was 12. It’s a testament to Harrower’s empathy and skill that this sensitive subject didn’t prevent the Manhattan Theatre Club production, starring Jeff Daniels and Alison Pill, from being a hit in 2007.
Now Harrower’s back with another taut showdown, “A Slow Air,” which he also directed at 59E59 Theaters. Except that this time around, the two protagonists talk about each other rather than to each other.
Athol (Lewis Howden) and his sister, Morna (Susan Vidler), share the stage the entire time, but they aren’t together. In alternating monologues, they tell us about their feud and reunion after 14 years apart.
It’s an interesting choice from a formal point of view, and Harrower deftly juggles the dual storytelling. But by preventing the characters from interacting, he also prevents real drama from blossoming.
At first glance, it’s hard to see how Athol and Morna could be related. A soft-spoken contractor, he’s your typical middle-aged suburban guy, comfy in his jeans and fleece.
Li’l sis, on the other hand, is strapped tight in red skinny jeans and teetering in high-heeled booties. This live wire has a temper, which occasionally gets her in trouble with employers and family alike. If someone could hold a grudge against the decent-seeming Athol, it’d be her.
Little by little, the pieces of the puzzle fall into place, prompted by an unexpected catalyst: Morna’s (unseen) 21-year-old son, Joshua, who one day shows up at his uncle’s door.
A budding artist, Josh is interested in drawing a graphic novel about the bombing of the Glasgow airport, in 2007. As it happens, the terrorists lived in Athol’s town.
Despite their physical differences, Vidler and Howden — who starred with his real-life sister in the play’s production at the Edinburgh Festival — are believable as hardscrabble siblings caught up in their pride. You can easily see why Morna would turn any slight into a hostile provocation.
But Harrower reveals the source of the dispute only at the end of the show, and by then it comes as a letdown. All this for that? Of course, if people just picked up the phone and hashed things out, we’d miss out on a lot of plays — and attempted terrorism.