At Studio, the Playwright Has Complete Say

Words of love are often ambiguous, but in "The Internationalist," a dark comedy of cross-cultural errors playing at the Studio Theatre, they're literally unintelligible.

For her edgy Rorschachian tale, set in an unidentified European country, playwright Anne Washburn invented a language that is unidentifiable and yet convincing. (Actor Tyler Pierce, who says the cast calls it Washburnese, describes it as "one-quarter Romance language, one-quarter Eastern European and maybe some Lao," although it also has a little Scandinavian lilt to it.)

Lowell (Pierce), a young American executive sent to this country to consult on a business deal, is quite seriously lost in translation -- left out of many of his co-workers' conversations and often wrong-footed by his social prejudices. "Everything he perceives is not what's happening," Pierce says.

Fortunately for him, Sara, the office assistant he stumbles into bed with, speaks excellent English and serves as a sort of tour guide and interpreter. Despite having started the affair on a whim, Sara (played by Tonya Beckman Ross) falls for him. But Lowell is something of a snob. He is taken aback to discover -- only after they have embarked on their relationship -- that she is just a file clerk.

"From Lowell's point of view, it's partly a status thing," Pierce says. "He's wondering, 'What did I get myself into?' The relationship speeds forward to a place he's not ready to go."

"And she's disappointed because he's just another status-conscious American," Ross adds. At a crucial moment, when Lowell promises to tell her boss "in front of everyone" that he needs Sara to take him around town, he says no such thing. Instead, in his language, the professional vernacular, he shrugs her off and settles back into the business conference.

To Pierce's relief, Lowell has only a few Washburnese phrases to say. "I hate it," he joke-shudders. "I'm dyslexic anyway, and I can't read it at all!" In fact, Lowell is hopeless at learning even stock phrases, confusing the word for "airport" with "chicken house" and needing a crib sheet to order cocktails. But other characters constantly talk around and over Lowell in rapid Washburnese, putting the audience on the spot as much as he. One scene has them swapping funny stories after work, and the only word in English in an entire anecdote is "flippers." (Another anecdote, involving a fox, a cat and nudity, is both clear and hilarious and sets up the rhythm.) At other times, in cross-cutting phone conversations worthy of "The Office," other members of the cast have to shift back and forth from English to Washburnese at a rapid clip.

Still, much of the content is clear. One of Ross's speeches, for instance, at the bar, is delivered with intonations and pauses so natural-sounding that the audience can almost hear the "with a twist" in it. And near the climax of the play, when Sara realizes Lowell's emotional ambiguity toward her, she reverts to her own language for a crucial bit of universal truth-telling.

The only word Lowell understands is a conjunction -- a little black humor about the connection, or lack thereof, between them.

The English language has a "big vocabulary," Lowell says at one point, rather defensively. "We have a lot of tools." But in "The Internationalist," egocentricity throws a monkey wrench into the works.

The Internationalist Studio Theatre, 14th and P streets NW. 202-332-3300. Through June 22. $39-$57. Pay-what-you-can Saturday at 2. Limited $19 student tickets available 30 minutes before curtain except Saturdays. The Internationalist Studio Theatre, 14th and P streets NW. 202-332-3300. Through June 22. $39-$57. Pay-what-you-can Saturday at 2. Limited $19 student tickets available 30 minutes before curtain except Saturdays.