The Colorado Catechism

How do you know if an addict is lying? If his (or her) lips are moving, he’s lying. It’s an old joke, but there’s more than enough truth in it to produce tragedy, and that’s the truth (and the tragedy) that The Colorado Catechism explores.

Ty Wain, played by Kirk Blackinton, is a New York portrait artist three years into living clean and sober. Trouble is, he can’t seem to finish his new work. It’s the first original painting he’s done since his trip to rehab in Colorado, and Blackinton brings fear-tinged frustration to the performance. As Ty remembers his experiences in rehab and his emotionally- and psychologically-charged relationship with another patient, Donna (Melissa Rae Frago), he explores all the baggage that drunks and junkies collect in their substance-fueled rampage through life.

The set manages to work as both a real place and as the painting Ty is working on, and its effectiveness is hindered only by some minor lighting problems. The direction, by Ed Gyles Jr. (who seems to do a bit of everything in this production, and very well), keeps the pace up while still demonstrating a sort of hazy, detoxing dream-like quality.

Frago’s Donna is by turns seductive and combative, exuding desperation. Her fear, both of failing (yet again) at sobriety and of failing as Ty’s friend, is fully developed. Eventually, she is forced to choose between the appearance of friendship, with which she is most familiar, and true friendship, which often requires a sacrifice.

As played by Blackinton, Ty is deep in what clinicians call denial, and it’s only through Donna’s constant prodding that he begins to reveal the real source of his addiction. The Colorado Catechism doesn’t challenge twelve-step platitudes, but it does offer an unflinching—and slightly hopeful—take on the work necessary for such wounded souls to see themselves clearly. It’s not light-hearted, in spite of a number of laughs, and it’s not for audiences who are uncomfortable with emotional and psychological revelations. It is, though, an adult drama with adult sensibilities—and just enough sense to know when to laugh.