Theatre in Review: Diversion (The Barrow Project) "When Bess calls a meeting, it's usually some sorta shit show. It's a real whodunit." So says Mike, a nurse, to a young colleague, about their tough-as-nails supervisor. It's a meta moment, for Diversion is nothing if not a whodunit: A crime is committed, and the hunt is on for anyone responsible. But Scott Organ's play is something else again: a thriller that foregoes outrageous twists and/or bizarre psychology, focusing instead on pressing social issues and ruined lives. It's a workplace drama that begins on a quiet, almost mundane, note, growing in tension by degrees as its characters face increasingly awful choices. It's both a model of restraint and consistently engrossing. The action unfolds in the nurses' break room, attached to an ICU unit in an unnamed city. Bess assembles her staff to inform them that opioids are vanishing from the hospital's stock. Because nobody will come clean, an investigator from a consulting firm, herself a former nurse, will be assigned to the case. That would be cheerful, relentless Josephine, a bean counter at heart, whose collected data drives her to conclude that the thefts are being committed out of the ICU. She wants the culprit to confess, but nobody is forthcoming. And, indeed, as Josephine points out, there's reason to suspect everyone. The hypercompetent Emilia runs from her personal and professional problems, burying herself in work. Mandy, the new kid on the team, has poor work habits, a father in jail, and a shady boyfriend with disposable income and no clear way of earning it. Mike, who is weighed down by money problems and the challenges of single parenthood, is surprisingly conversant with the street price of a fentanyl patch. Almost all this information comes from Amy, an expert, who could be trying to deflect suspicion away from herself. The truth comes out in part in a shocker Act I finale, but the full story is much messier; among other things, it involves a possible plot to sacrifice one staff member for the supposed good of all. (Surprisingly, one of its biggest advocates is its likely victim.) Beyond the cunningly engineered plot, however, Organ is clear about the epidemic nature of opioid addiction and its effect on the surrounding community, as well as the grueling conditions under which the characters work. The physical toll, including broken bones and bad backs, is bad enough. The psychological grind may be even worse. Describing one patient, discovered in a parking lot, strung out, with a pair of toddlers in her car's backseat, Amy says, "She can barely talk, but she accused me of harvesting her organs." Then there's the legacy of the pandemic, when certain staff members had to make life-or-death decisions about which patients were assigned to the limited number of available ventilators. What precisely are the long-term effects of being forced to play God? Seth Barrish's hypernaturalistic direction is exactly what this material needs, building dramatic interest with a series of carefully controlled performances. Tricia Alexandro's stoic Emilia is suffering from profound emotional scars and is a keeper of secrets. Thais Bass-Moore's Bess is authoritative and brimming with tough love, yet eager to make this situation go away as quickly as possible. Colleen Clinton's Josephine is chatty, full of false reassurance, and utterly implacable. West Duchovny's Mandy is a girl trying to do an adult's job, hungry for the approval of her experienced colleagues. Deanna Lenhart's Amy is a loyal friend, only too ready to betray anyone she doesn't like. Connor Wilson's Mike is a cool and canny observer of on-the-job politics. Barrish's staging is filled with small, yet revelatory bits. (Wait for the moment when Amy pointedly refused Josephine's card, leaving the latter's hand hanging in the air.) And when the confessions come, they are spiked with an unforced anguish. The production design is a good match for the ensemble's naturalistic style. Edward T. Morris' photorealistic set and Solomon Weisbard's lighting contribute to the you-are-there feeling. Gina Ruiz's costume designs rely heavily on nurses' scrubs, but she also dresses Josephine smartly and provides a traffic-stopping party dress for Mandy on New Year's Eve. Sound designer Geoff Grimwald delivers various ambient hospital sounds along with reinforcement for Barrish's incidental music. Organ, a house playwright at The Barrow Group, has a knack for mining thriller-like tension from real-life circumstances, and this may be his tautest effort yet. There's not an ounce of fat in the script, and Barrish and company handle it in brisk, businesslike fashion, letting the story's terrible implications speak for themselves. Order will be restored to the hospital, but the human cost will be high. --David Barbour 
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