The characters in Ché Walker’s musical two-hander Klook and Vinette are wounded souls on the run from their pasts. In other words, they’re trying to escape themselves, usually a doomed operation.
Jubilee Theatre’s production, seen Aug. 9, wrings every drop of feeling out of this inevitably tragic love story, beginning with a set that serves as both atmosphere and metaphor. Sheer pink-red fabric drapes in a criss-crossing pattern overhead while a series of neatly stacked suitcases sit nearly hidden by the surrounding furnishings. Together, they signal a fleeting romance ahead.
The first scene, a flash forward to one of the musical play’s final moments, is a startling wakeup call. Klook (Brian Gibson) wields a gun in one hand, a pint of rum in the other. He cries as he narrates his dire situation, questioning God and earthbound authorities alike. His cards have been marked all along, he says, speaking of a nagging loneliness.
Gibson showcases impressive range, embodying Klook’s desperation as well as the character’s surface-level confidence. When the action resets, he first meets Vinette (Tamya Simmons), an aspiring writer, in a health food restaurant.
They flirt amid talk of quinoa and organic carrot juice, dropping pop culture references from Werner Herzog to Yaphet Kotto, him coming on strong, her gamely trying to resist. She’s been burned before. He’s too old for her. Besides, his sad eyes betray a dark history. She’s got baggage, too.
Simmons subtly personifies Vinette’s very human mix of suspicion and want. She and Gibson build chemistry over the course of the musical play, the songs acting as extensions of the dialogue, weaving numbers like “Fragile” and “Am I In Your Heart?” into Walker’s poetic, philosophical script almost seamlessly. Their renditions are sweet and heartfelt.
As their tentative romance grows roots, the fledgling couple’s secrets start to spill out. He’s more open about the time he’s spent in and out of prison than she is about the son she’s left behind with her mother. That revelation sparks their first big fight when Klook questions her choices. At other points, he encourages her to submit her short stories to publishers.
The violent resolution of Klook and Vinette feels somewhat unsatisfying if inescapable. While past productions have depicted the climax more literally, director Khira Hailey chooses a delicate approach, mirroring her sensitive touch throughout.
Ultimately, the ending is reminiscent of a line from the musical Hadestown: “It’s a sad song, but we sing it anyway.”