The story takes place in the cluttered backyard of a small-town Texas bar in 1972. Roy (Matt de Rogatis), a brawny, macho type who had once been a local high-school hero, is back in town after a hitch in Vietnam and realizes that about all he has left are memories of his glory days, his adoring younger brother Ray (Chris Loupos), his wife Elizabeth, and his now crumbling 1959 pink Thunderbird. Joined by Ray, Roy sets about consuming a case of Lone Star beer while regaling his brother with tales of his military and amorous exploits. But with the arrival of Cletis (Greg Pragel), the fatuous, newlywed son of the local hardware store owner, the underpinnings of Roy’s world gradually begin to collapse.

During the time in which Lone Star takes place, the early 1970’s, many returning Vietnam Vets were struggling with integrating themselves back into society after witnessing the horrors of war. Although there wasn’t a name for it at the time, these soldiers were suffering from the effects of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or PTSD. Lone Star is a poignant look at a man’s struggles with this disorder and it raises many questions about masculinity and pride. Every bit as relevant today, if not more, than it was when it was written in 1979, James McLure’s best known work is one of the earliest plays about PTSD.

Lone Star has been extended at The Triad after a successful run this past May and all performances feature live music prior to curtain.

Lone Star, the James McLure play presented by Nine Theatricals and directed by Pete McElligott, is All-American beer and cigarettes and backyards. A damn funny and effective ode to dirty boys of early 1970s Texas, some just home from Vietnam, others who never left town, it’s a play about the scope of their lives, excruciating and exciting and very much of a certain place. This place being: the backyard behind an Angel’s bar in Maynard, Texas. Roy is just back from Vietnam and drinking behind the bar, under the stars, with his brother, Ray. They shoot the shit, but the play never even veers into the theatrics of the Absurd writers, or the poetry of contemporary writers fixated on the quotidian. McLure’s text is about these boys, shooting the shit, breathing into each other so they can exhale through the other, and it’s really nice. Each performer embodied their character with real aptitude and solid detail work. Chris Loupos, as the sheepish little brother Ray, relaxed into his character with baggy shoulders. Scared macho big bro Matt De Rogatis performed with aplomb and a nice fulfilled sense of American charm. Greg Pragel played Cletis, the awkward sorta friend who joins the broth …Read more