Five stars for 'Five Years'

"The Last Five Years" by Jason Robert Brown, on stage this weekend at the Matthews Theatre at 185 Nassau St., is an innovative piece of musical theater, and a small cast of Princeton students does it justice. Directed by Amy Coenen '07 and Jordan Kisner '09, this production is honest, direct, and incredibly moving.

The plot is simple: Jamie and Cathy (the only characters) get married and eventually end their five-year relationship. The show is almost a revue: while there is a clear plotline, almost no lines are spoken — a typical feature of Jason Robert Brown's musicals. The two actors barely even come into contact with one another, because while we see Jamie travel through the relationship from beginning to end, Cathy's perspective proceeds from the end of their relationship to its beginning. The general pattern of the play is that one character sings a song, then the other, and so forth, progressing in their respective directions through the history of the relationship. The only time the characters really see one another and relate directly is at the climax: their different trajectories intersect at the middle of their relationship — at the moment when they decide to get married.

The centerpiece of the set is a plain white bed, which mirrors the bare-boned nature of the play. The floor and walls are covered with old pieces of newspaper. There is a curtain of cups and a column of empty bottles and a table fashioned out of Chinese takeout boxes. The accumulation of this "trash" is a symbolic measure of the time, and the significant portion of their lives, the two characters spend together.

Cathy, played by Molly Ephraim '08, opens the show. From the moment the lights come up until the blackout at the end of the show, Ephraim plays her role nearly flawlessly. Her portrayal of Cathy is so internalized, honest and vulnerable, that she brings the story to life. Ephraim underplays the role — she seems more a person than a character. The acoustics of the space are not optimal, but a good balance with the orchestra, matched with Ephraim's impeccable diction, result in songs that feel like raw stream-of-consciousness. Ephraim doesn't neglect a single word, instead pays close attention to their layered meaning and makes them her own.

As Jamie, Josh Lavine '09 also gives a strong performance. His singing voice, more than anything else, stands out. His projection, joined with his vocal control, allows him to move through his songs organically. The character's emotional journey is evident not only in the lyrics, but also in Lavine's expressive singing.

These two actors grapple with challenging roles, especially since it is incredibly difficult to play off just one other actor. They sing songs to thin air, either imagining the other character is there or lost in the memories of their relationship. This is extremely difficult, and at times they struggled. The focus becomes the music of the song itself, rather than the song as communication, so the truth of the character's emotions and individual situations loses its strength. Jason Robert Brown's lyrics are so rich, their cadence so natural and their words so thick with meaning that the actors were most successful when they stopped working so hard. The best thing for the actors to do would be to simply relax, trusting the words, the music and their characters.

Perhaps the most simultaneously intriguing and frustrating aspect of "The Last Five Years" is the fact that the characters are lost in their separate worlds, unaware of the other's presence. This binary stage naturally creates tension and puts the audience on edge. At the climax of the musical, when Cathy and Jamie decide to get married, it is both extremely moving and a relief when, for the first — and only — time, the characters truly see one another, touch one another and kiss. The deepness of their relationship instantly becomes spine-chilling.

If you've never seen "The Last Five Years," this would be the time to see it. This production brings Brown's work to life. It seems impossible, as an audience member, not to laugh, cry or live vicariously through this relationship and inevitable to come out feeling a bit changed.