A tattered US flag hangs from the steel-poled set in Femi Elufowoju Jr’s new production of Suzan-Lori Parks’s 2010 chamber piece. Even without those moth-eaten stars-and-stripes, it would be clear that what unfolds in this bare-bones domestic dive, with its sofa, fridge and sink, is a metaphor for a divided country.
Each character in this three-hander has a private space in which to spiral off into delusional monologues. Grace, a waitress, seeks solace in the diary of the title: a record of the good things she notices. Her tyrannical husband Vet, a US-Mexico border guard who fetishises the boundary-like crease in his uniform, is writing a speech for a ceremony at which he will be honoured for apprehending smugglers. His formerly estranged son Buddy records videos that have the stench of the suicide-bomber about them. Perhaps the grenade he carries is more than just a memento from his military days.
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