BETC production hits home with a stellar cast in Molly Smith Metzler’s reality play.

Who am I once the baby is born?”

That’s the question at the heart of Cry It Out, Molly Smith Metzler’s clever 2017 play about the nature of motherhood and the yawning disparity of how it’s experienced at different income levels.

In this production by the Boulder Ensemble Theatre Company (BETC), Director Candace Orrino works with an A-list cast of Colorado actors to tell a story of three women on the North Shore of Long Island confronting common, yet different challenges faced by mothers in 21^st Century America.

For Jessie (Noelia Antweiler), a difficult birth alters her original plan to return to her NYC law firm, and while it may be a stretch financially, it’s something she and her husband could afford. She befriends her tough-talking working-class neighbor Lina (MacKenzie Beyer), who’s faced with having to return to work long before she wants to — with childcare affordability being a huge issue.

This burgeoning friendship between two women on different rungs of the economic ladder is the core of the story, and Orrino lovingly directs their interplay from the first of their backyard coffee klatches to a believable besties stage just a few weeks later. The story is served up with a good amount of humor, offsetting the tears and wrenching decisions that make up much of the plot.

Cry It Out is staged on a simple Tina Anderson-designed set depicting a slightly shabby backyard in fall/winter. Costume Designer Riley Anne Martin does a nice job with the high-end togs for Mitchell and Adrienne, sweatpants and chunky sneakers for Lina and the understated but no doubt spendy clothes Jessie wears.

Marco Alberto Robinson as Mitchell and Noelia Antweiler as Jessie in the BETC production of ‘Cry It Out.’ | Photo: Bekah Lynn Photography

Dynamic duo

Antweiler has become a well-known presence on Colorado stages, often playing powerful women in a number of memorable performances. Here, we’re treated to a highly nuanced depiction of a much more vulnerable character, portrayed by an actor at the top of her game. With real tears, her face shows us much of her painful decision making in places where she has no lines. Her reactions to Lina’s coarse humor and blunt assessments of the mother’s dilemma also provide moments of levity alongside her gentle and accepting nature.

In a later scene, she must stand silent as another character berates her up and down. That’s a tough acting job, and Antweiler’s use of body language in this moment is amazingly effective. I can’t think of a recent scene on a Colorado stage where an actor has done so much without speaking.

Lina at first looks like the stereotypical Islanduh, but Metzler’s script affords her many layers — and Beyer handles it beautifully.Joking through pain and the unfairness of it all is signature lower middle-class behavior, and as the friendship with Jessie deepens, Lina starts to reveal more of who she is and what’s going on with her family. (Speaking as someone who used to have one, I should also note that Beyer does a credible Long Island accent.)

Forced to rely on a sketchy family member for daycare reveals the dilemma faced by so many parents. Unavailable, unaffordable or just plain bad childcare pushes families — women particularly — into untenable situations that make the whole parenting thing seem practically impossible.

Erika Mori, left, as Adrienne and MacKenzie Beyer as Lina in ‘Cry It Out.’ | Photo: Bekah Lynn Photography

Mitchell and Adrienne

The strong bond between the two women is a powerful story that could have made Cry It Out a two-hander. But after establishing the rapport between Lina and Jessie, Metzler introduces us to another couple: Adrienne and Mitchell. While the families we’ve met so far live in the working-class enclave of Manorhaven, this couple dwells in the land of multi-million-dollar homes on the ridge above. It’s from here that Mitchell descends in the most awkward way possible with a peculiar ask.

It’s a treat to see Marco Alberto Robinson portray this character. Another hot Colorado actor we’re used to seeing in more high-profile roles, here he plays a man clearly at wit’s end with a wife who, he claims, barely ever touches their newborn. He slinks into Jessie’s backyard like a creep, despite his good intentions. His wife, he tells them, is eager for female companionship, and she’s seen Jessie and Lina through their telescope — could they invite her down for their next coffee sesh?

Despite that cringy reveal, Jessie says “um, sure” while Lina presciently voices strong doubts.

Adrienne, we soon learn, represents another category of new mother: a woman who’s got a busy career and is not ready to cede herself completely to the rigors of motherhood. It’s a worthy topic to be sure, but it’s one part of the script that falters. Mitchell’s appearance comes off as forced, and when Adrienne reluctantly shows up to satisfy her husband’s request to meet the women, her bitchy attitude is just too over the top to be completely believable.

It’s no reflection on Robinson or Erika Mori as Adrienne — they both deliver solid performances. But while their intros are bumpy, their story is nonetheless worthy of exploration. When Adrienne drops her guard to tell her side of the story, she makes the point that no one would question a man focusing more on his successful business and leaving much of the childcare to the help. Despite her anger being misdirected at Jessie, it’s easier to see the source of it — another big dose of unfairness mothers are asked to swallow.

Along with its accurate depictions of motherhood in today’s America, wealth inequality is also under the microscope. But while wealth may offer options, Cry It Out also serves to remind us that it doesn’t insulate you from everything. Mitchell and Adrienne may be swimming in dough, but it doesn’t prevent them from marital meltdown when things don’t add up emotionally.

Metzler ends the show with a devastating, two-word question by one of the characters that changes everything. It neatly summarizes the ongoing conflicts at the core of the story while again underscoring the Gordian knot of parenthood. If you’re looking for a neat, happy ending, you won’t find it here.

Cry It Out is a bright spot in a somewhat quiet midsummer season in the metro area. It will resonate with anyone who’s had to confront these tough choices — and it may well make those considering parenthood to think twice.