In most crime novels, you try to figure out who did the deed. In Amy Herzog’s new drama, “The Great God Pan,” the big question is whether the deed even happened.
The play opens with the awkward reunion of Jamie (Jeremy Strong) and Frank (Keith Nobbs), childhood friends who haven’t seen each other since they were 7. Now, 25 years later, Frank’s tracked down Jamie because he has big news to share. No, it’s not that he’s gay or a massage therapist: He’s pressing criminal charges against his father for sexual abuse, and Dad has confessed to abusing Jamie as well.
Jamie’s response is unexpected.
“I understand, man, and I think what you’re doing is great, and really brave,” he says, “but I don’t remember anything. Sorry.”
Still, the news clearly bugs the quiet, diffident Jamie: He’s convincing when he claims that nothing happened, but you can also tell he’s wondering, “What if?”
This doubt taints his relationship with his longtime girlfriend, Paige (Sarah Goldberg), and his parents, Cathy and Doug (Becky Ann Baker and Peter Friedman).
Paige, a former dancer, is a nutritionist who counts among her clients the anorexic teen Joelle (Erin Wilhelmi). That illness is another example of the mind-body disconnection that may also afflict Jamie, who used to experience “sexual problems” with his wife.
Herzog’s last two shows, “After the Revolution” and “4000 Miles,” have met with great acclaim — especially the second, in which an elderly woman and her grandson bond over their shared history and experience with death. Like those plays, “The Great God Pan” looks at how the past impacts people’s lives, and how memory works — or not.
The facts are fuzzy, often distorted, and the audience finds itself playing detective. Frank, who admits to being a liar, may not be a reliable accuser. Jamie, who admits to having “a terrible memory,” may not be a reliable victim. Their former baby sitter (Joyce Van Patten) now suffers from dementia and is a poor witness.
All this is expertly acted, and director Carolyn Cantor does a sensitive job — maybe too sensitive. This is a smart, well-crafted show, yet it’s also difficult to be passionate about it, maybe because nobody in it is.
For a story hanging upon an unconscionable act, the characters remain remarkably composed. Even when Jamie and Paige get into an ugly fight, there’s barely any heat. You can almost picture Cantor telling Strong and Goldberg to keep it low-key because, gosh darn it, they’re not in “August: Osage County.”
The end of the play follows suit. But room temperature may be a little too comfortable for such a hot-button issue.