PRIMARY TRUST

On the way to Opening Night of Primary Trust at the Mark Taper Forum, my friend asked me what genre of show this would be. I never check-out the promos before I see something, so I had no idea. But I replied hopefully that I believed it was a comedy, even though I was just guessing. So when it began with a lot of laughs, I was happy that I hadn’t fibbed. Most of it is very funny. But its raison d’être is extremely serious. And touching. (A line near the end states, “Even though we lose everything, in the end, it’s the finding that’s important.” What a lovely concept!)

So let’s delve further into this Pulitzer Prize-winning play, which is an interesting combination of very funny, very sadly serious, and a bit too slow at times. Go figure.

Actually, I really wasn’t sure what it’s about until almost the end. So I just went with the entertaining journey. It’s basically the story of how one man copes with the pain of loss and loneliness. Despite the inherent sadness along the way, (to me, anyway, because I always want people to have friends,) Primary Trust is filled with laughs. And excellent performances from all four of the actors.

Petey McGee does the heavy lifting admirably as Kenneth, who I believe is never off the stage, except to change an item of wardrobe! (The character often does not complete a thought, à la Charles Barkley discussing basketball, so I’m used to it. But I’ve never seen it in a play before!) Ugo Chukwu is his bestie, Bert, who any of us would be lucky to have, with his humor and charm, and most importantly, care of Kenneth. James Urbaniak plays a trio of comic roles, and is very funny in all of them. And the only female, Rebecca S’Manga Frank, basically steals the show, playing all the waiters and waitresses at a bar, which is Kenneth’s “favorite place on earth,” and all the customers at the bank that Kenneth eventually works at!

And let’s not forget Luke Wygodny, the lone musician who unobtrusively provides all the low-key background music, (which he composed!) He plays keyboard, cello, and guitar, and keeps ringing a possibly important bell throughout, although I still can’t find anybody who really understands its purpose. (I’m surmising that it either stands for passage of time, or that Kenneth needs to stop talking about something. Or that the production just wants to annoy us.)

I love a play that gets right to it! Primary Trust begins with the brilliant line, “This is what happened,” and just goes from there. (I’m actually a bit jealous about that smart start—I wish I had thought of that when I was doing my TV show, instead of the insipid sing-song, “Hi, welcome to my show.” I may have to do a new television endeavor now just to steal use that opening line!)

There are so many aspects one could discuss about this deep-yet-charming play: psychological effects of childhood trauma, what friends are and mean, what that bell signifies, the multiple meanings of the title, what small-town life was like before cell phones, and my fave—how important kindness is. But I’m leaving it up to each individual theatergoer to figure it all out for themselves.

I’m actually, and not jokingly, more interested in this aspect: You know I hate telling you anything about the action of a show, especially when part of it is a fun surprise. But this revelation happens pretty soon after the start, and it’s important to the story, (and to mine, as well,), so here it is: Kenneth’s bestie, Bert, is…imaginary! I love it. That’s the best kind of friend! Even though Kenneth is thirty-eight in this tale, he and my four-year-old self have that in common. But I had two of them—brother and sister duo Peter and Diane Kosher. Well, I actually had four—Big Peter and Diane and Little Peter and Diane. The “littles” and I had deep conversations on my red toy phone every night before I went to sleep. And the “bigs” and I had financial meetings in the bathroom, with my father’s checkbook! (Boy, those were the days.) So I totally understand this character, and I thank playwright Eboni Booth for those great memories. (Yet they’re not distant ones—somehow, the Koshers come up in convos with Mr. X every few months!)

Adoring miniatures and dollhouses, I loved Marsha Ginsberg’s set of smaller-than-in-real-life buildings. There was the Primary Trust Bank, of course, the bar Wally’s, a church, and the one I loved the most, (but didn’t understand the location of,) an ice cream shop on top of another building, (which I deduced because of the soft serve cone at the top.) I could live in that fictional town! And a big shout-out to the person responsible, (perhaps lighting designer Masha Tsimring,) for the snow effect near the end—it took my breath away. (Actually, don’t avert your eyes for even one second during the entire presentation or you’ll miss something.)

I rarely write about, or even think about, the direction of a show, but during this one, I made a note that it’s “well-staged” by director Knud Adams. Even the placement of the musician—on stage, right in front of the first row of the audience, so that we can all still see him a bit, but not really notice him much—is spot-on.

But at an hour and forty-five minutes with no intermission, Primary Trust feels just a tad too long. Perhaps the ending monologue, though incredibly powerful, should be a bit quicker; such long pauses between sentences aren’t necessary. There are two other super-slow bits, but they are comedic ones, and the long time to get them done is what makes them hilarious—an old lady counting out one penny at a time to the bank teller, and a waiter bringing full drinks to the table without spilling them. Those both drew the biggest laughs of the night when I saw the show.

Outside of the length, there are only two minuscule auxiliary bits about Primary Trust that bothered me a smidge. At one point, Kenneth says, “Me and my friend…“ That is soooo wrong, and it’s like nails on a chalkboard for me to hear it. I’m sure it was a choice for the character, but I’m always happy to take the opportunity to share a little grammar lesson. The correct thing is to put yourself second, so the proper sentence structure is, “My friend and I…” did whatever. Or it happened to “my friend and me.” It used to be only really uneducated people who said it wrong, but, very sadly, nowadays that egregious error seems to be constantly made by somewhat intelligent people, too. How is that happening?!

The other slightly bothersome moment for me was that although I was seated way up at the top, (which is a wonderful sightline at the Taper, by the way,) I could smell and feel the smoke from the one on-stage cigarette! (It didn’t smell like an herbal one to me.) And the odor was so strong that at first I thought that someone in the row behind us had lit up! (However, one of them recorded the whole show! Shame on them.) But the smoke smell dissipated quickly enough to not cause an asthma attack, so I just got over it. I’m mentioning it simply because it was a curious situation for a theatre these days.

And now, here’s the best news of all. If you’re an Empath, as I am, you’ll be glad to know that Primary Trust has a happy ending, even though at times along the way it may not look like that will be the case. So you can just relax and enjoy it all. But bring a tissue. Or two.

Primary Trust running through June 28, 2026
Mark Taper Forum 135 N. Grand Ave.
213-972-4400 www.centertheatregroup.org