Living Out refreshingly tells it like it is. In Lisa Loomer's fine play, Nancy and Richard Robin are lawyers who have recently had their first baby. Richard is a poorly-paid public defender who, sort of against his better judgment, has let himself be talked into moving to a swankier part of Los Angeles to raise their daughter. Nancy is a high-powered entertainment lawyer (though thankfully not the stereotyped Type A superbitch who has become a staple of contemporary American drama).
Because Nancy makes the larger salary, and because Nancy genuinely likes her work, the Robins hire a nanny--excuse me, caregiver; Nancy hates the word "nanny." The one they choose is Ana Hernandez, an El Salvadoran immigrant who is desperate for the job; she and her husband Bobby are trying to save enough money to bring their elder son to this country (he currently lives in El Salvador with his grandmother). Because Ana's experience has taught her that mothers don't want to hire nannies who have young children at home, Ana leads Nancy to believe that her other son is also in El Salvador, though that is not true.
Little lies are just part of the tangled web modern life makes these characters weave: Living Out is about, more than anything else, the inexorable complexity of choices facing people who are trying to do the best for themselves and their families these days. Ana lies to Nancy about her husband's immigrant status (he's illegal), and to her husband when Nancy eventually gives her the name of a good immigration lawyer to help speed things along. Nancy lies to Richard when she finds out her nanny is illegal, and she spies on Ana (on advice from not-so-well-meaning neighbors) to make sure that her new employee doesn't steal money from her. Richard tells Ana to lie to Nancy when Ana reports one day that the baby has crawled for the first time. And so on. And so on.
The fabrications and falsehoods pile up, but naturally so; so when one of them suddenly has enormously serious consequences at the climax of Living Out, we're more than a little jolted. Loomer ends her play realistically, which is to say that the Robins make out better than the Hernandezes; but nobody gets all the things they wanted. She leaves us thinking whether the complicated world that we've created, where it seems that people can't afford to live honestly, is worth the trouble.
Loomer cannily fills out her story with twin choruses--two other mothers in the neighborhood and their two Hispanic nannies--who comment on and occasionally catalyze the action. These four women occupy opposite ends of the economic spectrum; they also provide useful contrast to Nancy and Ana in terms of the values they hold and the choices they make. I love Living Out because it never lets us forget that nothing is black or white in real life; everybody's got a point in this play, and furthermore, everybody gets a chance to explain it.