Friendly ire: Dave (Keith Conallen) attacks roommate Paul (Christopher Bohan) in Jump/Cut. (photo by paola nogueras)

Mental State

A trio of young adults grapple with the impact of bipolar disorder in Jump/Cut.

by J. Cooper Robb

The Flashpoint Theatre Company continues its mission of presenting unconventional drama with the thoughtful staging of Neena Beber’s drama Jump/Cut.

The play is told from the perspective of Paul (Christopher Bohan), a struggling filmmaker who serves as the story’s narrator. Paul shares his apartment with his best friend from high school Dave (Keith Conallen), who suffers from bipolar disorder. Dave’s mind jumps erratically between reality and delusion, mania and depression.

Paul dreams of becoming a famous film director while Dave’s ambitions involve writing the Great American novel. As the adolescents grow into men, Dave’s mental state worsens. He spends his days on Paul’s couch, smoking pot and swallowing Lithium tablets prescribed to keep his manic-depression at bay.

The apartment becomes more crowded with the arrival of Paul’s girlfriend, Karen (Kristyn Chouiniere). Passionate about Dostoyevsky, Karen is working on a somewhat ambiguous project about a beautiful countess and the photographer who immortalized her. Although faithful to Paul, she yearns to be what she calls a “what the hell girl” and is attracted to Dave and his unpredictable bursts of creative energy.

Beber’s dialogue can be impressively poetic. Too often, though, the writing draws attention to itself and the episodic tale is congested with annoyingly obscure metaphors. Additionally, Jump/Cut’s structure is ill-suited for theater. Relentlessly shifting time, location and mood, the play feels like a film that’s been awkwardly adapted for the stage.

Despite these shortcomings, director Karen DiLossi’s production captures our interest. Navigating Jump/Cut’s disjointed plot, she focuses our attention on the characters brought to life in vivid portrayals.

Bohan (who’s emerged as one of the city’s most promising actors) and Chouiniere give commendable performances, but their characters are not nearly as captivating as the volatile Dave.

“When you’re not well is when you feel the best,’’ Dave says, explaining bipolar disorder’s dangerous allure. The disease’s electrifying high makes him repeatedly abandon his medication and its emotionally deadening calm.

Conallen gives a convincing representation of Dave’s manic highs and fatiguing lows, and like Karen, we’re attracted to Dave’s mix of innocence and impulsiveness.

At one point, Paul observes that a film’s conclusion is far more important than its beginning. Jump/Cut begins with Paul and Dave as stoned teens debating the origins of the band Steely Dan. But the trivialities of youth are long forgotten by the time we reach Jump/Cut’s potent conclusion, when Dave frees himself from the disease and drugs and finally gains control of his destiny.

» footlights

African Influence

People love to recall the good old days. The Lantern Theater Company’s assured revival of Sizwe Bansi Is Dead proves that the bad old days are likewise worth remembering. First performed 35 years ago, the play by Athold Fugard, John Kani and Winston Ntshona returns us to 1972, during South African apartheid.

The story opens in the small shop belonging to a black South African named Styles (Forrest McClendon in a riveting performance). An entrepreneurial sort, Styles left his job at the Ford Motor Company plant to begin his own photography business in Port Elizabeth.

One of Styles’ clients is Sizwe Bansi (the excellent Lawrence Stallings). Married and a father of four, Bansi has left his family to work in the city. But he has fallen victim to a practice known as “influx control” that forces him to leave his job in Port Elizabeth and return to a destitute existence in his home district. Bansi discovers a way to stay in Port Elizabeth, but to do so he must relinquish his name.

Beautifully directed by Peter DeLaurier, Bansi can be disturbing to watch. But in the play’s conclusion, when Sizwe is forced to choose between his identity and his family’s survival, we’re witness to an act of heroism that lifts even the most jaded theatergoer’s spirits. (J.C.R.) Through March 1. $20-$35. St. Stephen’s Theater, 10th and Ludlow sts. 215.829.0395. www.lanterntheater.org