What I liked
The show, starring Verity Van Dams Valdez and Gavin Velez as Wendy and John respectively, is a painfully uncomfortable yet blatantly honest portrait of a husband and wife whose own careers have made up SO much of their own personalities, they’ve grown communicatively incompetent when one of those careers has hit a massive lull. Velez’s John is an insecure catastrophist whose sardonic wit comes out in waves of creative panic towards Wendy’s passive and cold indifference. Van Dams Valdez makes Wendy both sinuously guilty when opposite John, and yet in scenes with hip-hop artist Trey, her top client yearning for her intimacy, she’s shown as a woman whose doubt in her own marriage is applied rationally (albeit tinged with an attraction to Trey). Rounding out the cast is Austin Valdez as Trey, and Shannon Gibbs as Rona, two marvelously energetic performances that serve as respective personality antitheses to our now essence-devoid couple. Overall, this hour long play sticks your nose right into the decline of a marriage, and the ego and audacity behind miscommunication. With 2 performances left (Sunday, June 18th, 3:30pm & Saturday, June 24th, 2:30pm, McCadden Theatre), I strongly recommend TWO WEEKS, written & directed by Nicholas Thomas Buda.
What I didn't like
Any criticism would come from specific stage direction; some of the blocking in the first scene between Wendy and John around the counter seemed redundant, and mechanically stiff.
My overall impression
A unique fly-on-the-wall experience for the audience, “TWO WEEKS” shows a marriage in decline when the couple involved gradually lose the ability to communicate their needs and desires to one another. John is a writer whose latest creative block has spiraled him into a severe paranoia, as he feels his wife, Wendy, is having an affair. Her absence, due to her job as a music promoter traveling ‘two weeks’ at a time, just reinforces his theory that she’s having said affair; her stoic and emotionally distant demeanor certainly lend to John’s suspicions.
