Theatre in Review: Ashes & Ink (AMT Theatre)You will look a long time before you find a more put-upon heroine than Molly, the central character of Ashes & Ink. A widow, she is trying to complete the sale of the family sound-effects business. (In a clear case of fumbled exposition, the enterprise appears to be entirely centered on bird recordings. This could use some explanation.) As she races to meet her deadline, her adolescent son, Quinn, a trouble magnet with a professional acting career, comes crashing out of rehab just before an important audition for the Royal Academy of the Dramatic Arts. Quinn, who can't help upsetting the balance of every room he enters, disturbs Molly's relationship with Leo, a widower with a winsome young son named Felix. Quinn is also a financial drain: Because rehab is expensive and RADA possibly even more so, Molly has cash flow problems. Then her sister, and business partner, Bree, shows up with bad news that knocks all her plans into a cocked hat. It's a blessing that Molly is portrayed by Kathryn Erbe, a fine actress who doesn't turn up on our stages nearly enough. Playing a character who exudes a cheerful competence on the surface with rising panic underneath, she keeps both sides of her character neatly balanced. Whether getting wistful about happy days with her late husband, trying to steady her relationship with Leo after Felix finds a crack pipe in the backyard (Quinn has been a guest there), or calling out Quinn for his I'll-get-sober-tomorrow attitude, Erbe provides Martha Pichey's diffuse drama with crucial grounding. The role is a workout and she is more than up to it. She isn't alone: the rest of director Alice Jankell's cast is equally well-chosen. Quinn can be as much of a trial to the audience as his mother, but Julian Shatkin's simmering performance makes him hard to ignore, sending distinct signals that he may be worth saving. Javier Molina is touching as Leo, a community college literature professor whose life was stalled by his wife's death, leaving him to juggle the demands of finishing his Ph.D, raising Felix, and building a life with Molly. Rhylee Watson is delightfully unaffected as Felix, who sees Molly as a fine substitute for the mother he never knew. The character of Bree is little more than a playwright's tool for bad news delivery but Tamara Flannagan acquits herself well. The situation is dramatic, and the people onstage are appealing but Pichey, a first-time writer, runs into some setbacks. As afflictions go, addiction is hard to dramatize; it's a repetitious condition and, from the beginning, it's pretty clear that Quinn isn't committed to getting better. The play is constructed, almost like a screenplay, from many brief scenes, most of which don't end on a strong note; the many transitions required lend the action a stop-and-start quality. Tim McMath's attractive set quickly adapts to several locations; still, an inordinate amount of time is spent in the dark, watching actors move scenic units. At times, it seems like the playwright is piling problems -- including an out-of-left-field case of blindness -- just to see how much stress Molly can take. Then again, following Molly's final, wrenching decision, the audience at my performance was filled with tears. And, for all its clunky qualities, Ashes & Ink doesn't shy away from hard truths. The production is also well-supported by Paul Hudson's lighting (especially the lovely arboreal patterns seen in the transitions), Kaitlin Feinberg's character-appropriate costumes, and Alex Attalla's sound design, which brings Molly's business to life while providing a host of other effects. A solid freshman effort, Ashes & Ink provides some good actors with solid roles and a mature treatment of a difficult subject. I suspect many in the audience will be moved by Pichey's unblinking depiction of a young man caught in a web of drug dependency. And Erbe is always a pleasure to see. --David Barbour 
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