Ann Patchett’s 2023 novel, Tom Lake, is a relationally-oriented therapist’s dream. A love letter both to northern Michigan’s cherry farms and to small-town family life, Patchett’s novel unpacks how greater emotional maturity is conducive to choosing healthier, more sustainable romantic partnerships.

The novel begins during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic while protagonist Lara is quarantining with her three daughters and her husband on their cherry farm in northern Michigan. With the world at a standstill, Lara’s daughters insist that she finally share with them the story from her early adulthood when she dated a young actor who went on to become the world’s most famous movie star. Lara’s three daughters worship the devastatingly handsome Peter Duke and demand that their mother finally give them the backstory. Reluctantly, and with strict and entertaining boundaries, Lara agrees.

What unfolds is a moving tale of a young, innocent and unassuming girl plucked from small town life in part because of her uncanny ability to portray small-town life through her performance in the lead role (Emily) in various productions of Thornton Wilder’s classic play Our Town. Lara’s youthful whirlwind romance with Duke is a classic Hollywood tale of innocence lost and how the spotlight of fame corrupts and contorts. Tom Lake’s plot toggles between Lara’s quarantine with her close-knit family and the complexities of life on the farm and Lara’s detailed description of her years as a young, unsuspecting, aspiring starlet. Heartache, sibling rivalry, and family love are concurrent themes, and Our Town’s cherishment of the wholesomeness of small-town life works as a convincing psychological template for emotional maturity and the beauty of healthy choices and a quiet, connected, authentic life.

Landford Wilson’s Broadway play, Burn This, starring Keri Russell and Adam Driver is a story about grief, and loss, and falling in love. Keri Russell plays Anna, a chic young dancer in New York City in 1987 who has just lost her gay dance partner and housemate, Robbie, in a freak boating accident. Robbie has not come out to his family. So, when Anna attends the funeral, she is treated as if she was Robbie’s girlfriend and she goes along with this charade.

The play opens as Anna, awash in grief, describes the scenes of the funeral to her other housemate, Larry. (Larry was traveling for work and unable to make it to the service.) Anna stretches her limbs and sighs with sadness as a violent door-knocking interrupts her pensive self-reflection. With swagger and abundant male energy, Robbie’s brother, Pale, barges into Anna’s home.

Pale is drunk, belligerent, and broken up about Robbie’s death. Anna and Pale experience a personality clash that invites the audience to wonder about the intense contrasts that must have existed between machismo Pale and his sensitive, gay, dancing brother. The chemistry is immediate. Anna and Pale banter in annoyance as if they have known each other for years. Anna steps in to say what Robbie could not. Pale teases Anna for living in a less than conventional neighborhood in an off-beat, open space. Anna reprimands Pale for his failure to make time to experience the utter joy of seeing Robbie dance. As far as Anna is concerned, Pale didn’t even know his brother.

And yet, Anna and Pale fall quickly and passionately into each other’s embrace.

Burn This explores how two unexpected, grieving souls might be drawn together despite strong differences in personality, preferences and world views. Anna is artsy and wears lots of flowing robes. Pale is a guy’s guy who drinks too much and throws too many punches. Anna seems drawn to the parts of Pale that may be physically or spiritually similar to Robbie, despite their uncanny differences. Pale seems drawn to Anna’s creative energy and the welcoming way she lives outside of the box. Of course, this is a part of Anna’s personality that bonded so deeply with Robbie with his brother during the years that his family rejected him. Their love seems fused by a dual desire to feel closer to Robbie.

One healing strategy through grief or loss is to aim for a corrective emotional experience. An experience can generate a healing value when revisits a painful situation and tries to do something differently in order to navigate a new result. Pale sees, accepts and embraces Anna for who she is. This mirrors the way he should have embraced and accepted his brother. Anne can absorb Pale’s admiration and acceptance as hers, but possibly not entirely hers alone. Perhaps she views Pale’s love as way to finally allow Robbie some version of being loved and embraced for who he was. This journey offers a glimmer of healing for them both.

When Joan Allen and John Malkovich starred in Burn This more than thirty years ago, Joan Allen won a Tony Award as Anna and John Malkovich won notorious praise for his wacky portrayal of Pale. Keri Russell and Adam Driver recreate these roles as their own and create a compelling, unexpected love story that demonstrates how love can sometimes become a healing and corrective emotional experience.

Sam Shepard’s intense and honest play, True West, offers a raw exploration of brotherly competition. The play opens as Austin (Paul Dano) clicks away on his typewriter, diligently determined to meet his professional obligations as a writer, spouse and father who is housesitting for his mother while she takes a trip to Alaska. In struts his tipsy brutish brother Lee (Ethan Hawke) who taunts and teases Lee and tries to distract him from his work. Both actors melt into their roles as quintessential good cop and bad cop as Austin dutifully waters his mother’s plants and tries to whip Lee into shape. Lee just wants more liquor and the keys to Austin’s car, and Austin relents if only to get Lee out of the house as he prepares for an important meeting with a Saul who wants to sell Austin’s screenplay and further launch his career. Not surprisingly, Lee takes the car but returns in time to invade Austin’s business meeting as brotherly tension builds.

Shepard’s masterly presence is felt throughout these actor’s lively and active performances. Dano and Hawke’s chemistry is believable and admirable. The brothers’ journey reveals how ardently people tend to cling to their family roles. It is common to state a desire for change, but when possibilities for transformation present themselves, conscious and unconscious resistance to change can feel as ingrained as conscious and unconscious sibling rivalry. But rivalry and resistance to change do not mean that change is impossible, and neither represents a barrier to love.

I was thrilled to find last minute tickets to this past Sunday’s matinee. At the show’s conclusion, it was announced that members of the company would be staying to discuss the show. About a quarter of the audience stayed and shared the exciting surprise that it was Ethan Hawke and Gary Wilmes (Saul) who joined the audience to answer questions. A talented moderator shared that Shepard’s work conveys the belief that male violence in America connects with painful experiences of inadequacy and that the play was as much about how toxic masculinity sabotages our land, our culture and family relationships. Wilmes was humble and humorous and Hawke was brilliant and engaged. Hawke described how his lines and his character enter his subconscious and it was noticeable that his hands were covered in scabs from the sheer physicality of his performance. This unexpected window into the actors’ experience amplified an already extraordinary theatrical experience.

As a result, sibling bonds inevitably shape personality and mindset, and the complex dynamics of sibling roles and relationships are frequently a meaningful dimension of the process of psychotherapy.

Arthur Miller’s play, The Price, offers a rich and emotionally raw account of two estranged brothers who reunite to try to sell their long-deceased parents’ furniture. The furniture has been in storage for quite some time, but the storage space is being sold. The scores of antiques that have been savored in storage frame the stage and function as a metaphor for the human need to hold onto the past, whatever the price. The dense dialogue infuses the story with psychologically provocative conversations and life reflections that illuminate how each brother’s perception of family dynamics and sibling roles have shaped their respective destinies.

Three-time Academy Award nominee Mark Ruffalo plays protagonist Victor Franz, a disillusioned cop who struggles with the sense that he cannot measure up to his brother’s (Tony Shalhoub) professional success. His phone calls go routinely un-returned by his busy brother, and even Victor’s wife (Jessica Hecht), seems wowed by his brother’s fine clothing and his air of privilege and financial security. As they haggle with the furniture appraiser (Danny DeVito), an inherent, long-standing sibling rivalry is revealed.

The dialogue unfolds, and the characters are willing to voice feelings and thoughts that clarify to the audience how two children can grow up in the same home, but process and remember the past in vastly different ways. Consciously or unconsciously, all siblings compete for their parents’ love, attention and approval. And siblings are bound to hold diverse interpretations of their histories. One important takeaway from this intense play is how important it is to try to avoid estrangement if possible, and to prioritize open and honest conversations with siblings and intimate family members.

The Price was first staged in 1968 and is currently running until May 7th at the American Airlines Theater. It is considered one of Arthur Miller’s most significant plays and is also available in paperback.