Grasses of a Thousand Colors (Gideon Media)

Towards the end of Grasses of a Thousand Colors, we hear that “unusual behavior is observed by those without unusual behavior.”  Consider yourself the latter when listening to this audio taped version of Wallace Shawn’s play.  Originally staged in 2013 at New York’s Public Theater, the original cast has been reassembled to once again bust the boundaries of morality, decency and psychological surrealism.

The center of this particular world is Ben, a narcissistic egomaniac whose best and only true friend is in his pants.  In fact, that relationship is a love affair that hardly has time for anyone else.  Ben happens to be the inventor of Grain #1 which solved for plant food shortages caused by the exploding animal population.  He is now wealthy and checks are pouring in.  He gloats “no one who hasn’t made money can imagine how great it is.”

Naturally there are side effects to this world-changing dynamic.  Animals start to be able to consume each other reducing the demands on the declining plant situation.  But there are more side effects to be discussed.  Pigs, for example, now have sex “fifteen or sixteen times every day.”  Fans of absurdist humor will find dozens of nuggets to savor.

Ben is married to Cerise (Julie Hagerty).  His mistress is Robin (Jennifer Tilly).  A later girlfriend is named Rose (Emily Cass McDonnell).  This wannabe – and arguably successful – playboy even has a cat named Blanche with whom intimacies are considered.  This play is nominally a story about an apocalyptic world turned upside down.  Instead, this slightly creepy and intensely detailed fairy tale is an unforgettably written diatribe about privileged men and their all-consuming sense of self.  If you have ever wanted to listen in on the thoughts of an unlikely and unctuous Casanova, this is the play for you.

Fair warnings are necessary.  This memoir is filled with both minor and major forays into sexual situations and commentary which are simultaneously hilarious and repulsive.  Some will undoubtedly be offended.  Once you settle into Mr. Shawn’s world and words (he plays Ben and is nearly perfect), the fascination of his boundary busting themes come into sharp relief.

All of the female characters and the actresses playing them are astonishingly memorable.  What’s in the minds of these ladies who choose to spend time with this revolting man?  “On those pointless evenings, I would stare at his member,” one says before remarking that there were “no answers in there.”

Grasses of a Thousand Colors is written with many monologues.  As a result, the audio play format works beautifully with the material.  Fans of Ms. Hagerty and Ms. Tilly will easily imagine their faces as they perform two very different and delightfully quirky characters.  I’ve listened to a bunch of audio plays and performances over the past year or so.  This one is top drawer.

Once again, if you can get past the R and X (and XXX) rated dialogue, this is a challenging and disturbing work worth a listen.  The three hour play is segmented into six half hour sections.  Did I mention violence?  Oh, there’s that too.  To be fair, the sputtering ending was anticlimactic.  Then again, how do you top what came before?  I can probably guarantee the scenes with Blanche alone will haunt for weeks.

Since the 2013 production we have had the #metoo movement and a global pandemic.  White privilege is at the forefront of social conversation.  Mr. Shawn’s play predates our current period with a phantasmagorical stream of consciousness hitting all of these themes.  If you take this particular trip, at a minimum, you’ll get to experience “the coziness of waking up in a bed that’s not yours.”

Grasses of a Thousand Colors is available wherever you listen to podcasts as well as through Gideon Media’s website.  The photo is from the original Public Theater stage production.

www.gideon-media.com

Sloppy Bonnie (No Puppet Co.)

The tagline for Sloppy Bonnie is simply irresistible.  This show is billed as “a roadkill musical for the modern chick.”  Is Bonnie sloppy?  Yes indeed but perhaps not sloppy enough.  This country western musical comedy does have inspired creative flourishes amidst the cartoonish and gleefully vengeful proceedings.

Bonnie is engaged to Jedidiah who is away for the summer.  He is a pastor in training at a retreat.  When old friend Sissy comes to town, Bonnie gets the idea to visit him since he has gone dark on emails, texts and phone calls.  This “little girl” from Tennessee takes a road trip through more than the dangerous southern roads past the “Dinosaur Creation Museum.”  Her journey is a warped feminist rant as well as a self-deprecating take on an idealized American stereotype.

Dr. Rob and Chauncy kick off the musical performing their Cosmic Country Radio show.  They announce that they are here to tell a morality tale about an American woman.  How does Bonnie define herself?  “By my purchases” is the tongue-in-cheek retort.  This leads into the opening number “You Might Call Me Basic.”  My favorite line:  “And ya I still say x-presso / I’m proud of what I don’t know.”

Jesus comes along for the ride, naturally.  Jumping in the car he notes he just purchased a 44 ounce refill.  He plans to turn it into wine later.  He will, at some point, take the wheel.  It’s good to have him around as “he healeth every pothole.”  Unfortunately Jesus is not along for the entire ride and the car breaks down.  A young lady all alone with Chris and Bryan pushing her and the vehicle.  They are described as “shirtless grifter drifters with California accents.”  All of the targets swung at in this show are big.

Bonnie’s journey turns from naively dingbatish to bizarrely deadly, in a most delightful way.  The storyline, however, careens wildly hitting guardrails on both sides of the highway.  There is the welcome radio station interludes and inexplicable numerous trips to the concept of the Nativity Chicken.  That does lead to one of the weirdest yet oddly compelling song “But Not For Birds.”  Bonnie sings in her best deadpan “when I grew older I would notice/ fellas focus mostly on two parts.”  The choreography is both a ridiculous and giddy tribute to Marilyn Monroe’s Diamonds number in Gentleman Prefer Blondes.

Playwright Krista Knight and Composer Barry Brinegar have smartly packaged their show into a sketch filled road trip movie wannabe.  Leah Lowe directed Sloppy Bonnie.  This online video was recorded from a previous live performance.  What makes the streaming extra interesting is the cartoon drawings layered on to the taped performance.  The often silly material benefits from a cheeky presentation style which lightens the dark clouds which threaten throughout this musical.  The screwdriver scene has to be more enjoyable when viewed online.

Amanda Disney is amusing as Bonnie.  She sings lyrics about wanting “just one small McNugget of your love” without irony which makes the songs work for this offbeat character.  Her male sidekicks, however, get to sink their teeth into comedic hijinks in multiple roles.  Curtis Reed and James Randolph II lend a SNL-like skit feel which is often entertaining.  The idea to inflate the heads for the radio announcers was hilariously spot on.

As may be appropriate for a roadkill musical, there are some unfortunate accidents.  The plot careens around many sharp turns which are unevenly steered.  The Book of Mormon tinged ending is probably the least effective section in the show.  That said, Sloppy Bonnie may exist to be a modern feminist manifesto.  Men, you better listen up.  You try ghosting your girl and risk the consequences.  Things might just get a little sloppy.

Sloppy Bonnie was recorded in June 2021 at OZ Arts Nashville.  This world premiere musical is available online through July 15, 2021.  Select the “canned” option for streaming tickets.

www.sloppybonnie.com

Herding Cats

Great timing can be a fascinating thing to experience.  Our past year of pandemic social distancing has changed how we interact with each other.  Theaters have closed down.  Streaming entertainment partially filled the void.  Herding Cats has arrived at the moment when audiences are tip-toeing back into their seats.  Although Lucinda Coxon wrote her play ten years ago there is a thematic connection to right now that is hard to ignore.

Director Anthony Banks staged this piece as both an in person event from London’s Soho Theatre while live streaming to home viewers.  The production adds another level of technical prowess by transmitting one character via video link from Los Angeles.  The overall effect is expertly realized and completely supports and enhances the storytelling.

Justine (Sophie Melville) and Michael (Jassa Ahluwalia) are flatmates.  Their vibe is wholly platonic.  She comes home from work grousing about her boss as she unloads her groceries.  Dealing with him, she says, is like herding cats.  Over the course of this eerily uncomfortable play we will learn how complicated, fragile and frisky those human relationships can be.

Justine recalls inappropriate behavior from her boss which has overt sexual overtones.  Meanwhile Michael is a telephone sex worker who gets paid to engage in overt sexual overtones.  Saddo (Greg Germann) is one of his clients.  Michael acts out a little girl fantasy for him.  It is as creepy as it sounds.  Everything and everyone is off-kilter to some extent.  As a result, Justine’s self-diagnosis near the end of the play is accurate.  “Sometimes I fell like I’m holding it all up, all on my own,” she remarks.

The vignettes in this play vary from comedic to chillingly disturbing.  This has the effect of destabilizing the viewer.  At one point, I wondered to myself if Justine and Michael were doppelgangers of each other.  I was reminded of the unstable brain from Matt Ruff’s fictional novel, Set This House in Order:  A Romance of Souls.  For those who enjoy weighty introspective themes and coloring far outside the lines, Herding Cats has a lot of nuance to sink your teeth into.

The marvelous set design by Grace Smart puts a bright light on the examinations in process.  The transatlantic streaming of Saddo onto a video screen projection gives the sex chat scenes a voyeuristic ickiness that elevates the feeling of disconnectedness.  The effect is disturbing and off-putting as intended.  The three actors excel at inhabiting these vaguely drawn yet realistic souls adrift in their own rough seas of isolation.

Loneliness and anger factor mightily into these character’s psyches.  Each of them exist on wobbly legs so there never seems to be emotional stability.  The action occurs over a period of time.  Important questions are asked but not really answered.  How will these two young people chart their life’s course after this play has ended?  That question may be as hard to answer as it is to herd cats together.

The final performance of Herding Cats is scheduled for May 22, 2021 and can be accessed via Stellar Tickets website through May 24th.  The show will be rebroadcast on Stellar from June 7 through the 21st.

www.sohotheatre.com

www.stellartickets.com/herdingcats

Zoetrope (Exquisite Corpse Company)

How long does it take to watch everything on Netflix?  Before the COVID-19 pandemic that question may never have been asked.  In Zoetrope, that is only one of many observations dissected and analyzed by the couple in this play.  As you peer into their world and watch their journey, your own experiences from this past year will inevitably creep into focus.  As a result, this fascinating thirty five minute performance is a rich and relevant slice of our times.

Speaking of slices, Bae and Angel will discuss whether or not they want pizza for dinner.  At the onset of the lockdown they bought a lot of beans.  So much so that the “line of healthy amount of beans was crossed weeks ago.”  The humor is casual and effective throughout.  This play, however, is not a comedy.  Like life, this living diorama is a roller coaster of emotional peaks and valleys sprinkled with everyday moments.

Exquisite Corpse Company has set up shop in an abandoned lot in Brooklyn.  The remnants of a dilapidated gas station and repair garage portend ruin.  A small white trailer with audience members peering in from the outside arouses curiousity.  This cleverly designed peep show respects the protocols of social distancing while spotlighting the world we have and continue to experience.

In a series of vignettes, the year 2020 and its impact on these two ladies will unfold.  Angel talks about making lists.  The things she wants to do in her new surreal reality.  She even writes in a journal that is “too nice to write in.”  As a list maker and goal setter myself, I saw my reflection through the glass pane.  Playwrights Elinor T. Vanderburg, Leah Barker and Emily Krause pepper this show with spot on details.

And then there are the monologues.  They range the gamut from insightful to peculiar.  All of them are interesting and further enlighten these characters’ motivations, anxieties and personalities.  Bae’s telephone call invoking a marshmallow analogy is one of the highlights of this impressive piece of theater.  Directors Porcia Lewis and Tess Howsam fluidly present this claustrophobic production as a clearly quirky yet wide eyed examination of this crazy isolated time we just ironically experienced collectively.

Vanessa Lynah inhabits the role of the seemingly more fragile Angel.  When she approaches the window and peers directly at you while asking questions, her intensity hints at deeper wells of conviction that are not readily apparent from the outset.  As Bae, Jules Forsberg-Lary is seemingly the more stable and stalwart woman in this relationship.  Her performance beautifully peels open a more confident exterior to reveal a softness that is heartbreaking in its honesty.

Walking away from Zoetrope at its conclusion, we found it remarkable that so much story and depth of characterization happened in such a short period of time.  The Visual Design by Emily Addison with Visual Artist Domenica Montoya are icing on the cake.  The world is often starkly viewed in black and white just like Bae and Angel’s tiny residence.  The grays in between, however, are the shadows which defined us as human beings during a nebulous 2020.  Uniquely theatrical and delicately ambitious.  Zoetrope demands you drop the remote, go to Brooklyn and engage.

Exquisite Corpse Company’s presentation of Zoetrope was originally scheduled to run through May 23, 2021 but has extended performances until June 20th.  Starr Kirkland and Leana Gardella also perform the roles of Angel and Bae at certain performances.

www.exquisitecorpsecompany.com

Black Feminist Video Game (The Civilians)

A mixture of Zoom live action, audience interaction and an old school video game, Darrel Alejandro Holnes’ Black Feminist Video Game is overfilled with levels.  There’s light comedy, melodrama, politics, silliness, boldly underscored learnings and, yes, a two dimensional video game to conquer.  “True men are feminists” is the mantra that concludes this journey.

Jonas (Christon Andell)  is biracial and autistic.  After an awkward introductory chat with the audience, he is on a Zoom date with Nicole (Starr Kirkland).  Unfortunately he is replaying close ups of Kate Uptons’ breasts on a beach.  Nicole, unsurprisingly, finds this behavior rude.  Things break off between the two of them.  Jonas laments “try dating on the spectrum and also being black.”

He wants to get Nicole back.  Audience interaction continues with the question “Are you with me?”  The answers available are Yes and No.  The audience types in their choice.  Yes is chosen.  Jonas remarks “now let’s go get my woman.”  That is the set-up.

On the way to the video game, Jonas will converse with various people including his mother (Constance Fields) and best online video game friend Sabine (Kyla Jeanne Butts, nicely grounded and realistic).  She is the Death Trap Underworld Champion!  She has some ideas about how Jonas can get Nicole back.

His mother is a nurse.  She has to leave teenager Jonas home alone due to her nursing job.  How’s the job today?  “The ER is overflowing with protestors injured by the police.”  That is a throwaway line.  The play quickly moves on to spout comments like “I love ramen noodles” and showcase cartoon character imitations (which were fun).

Sabine decides to assist Jonas win the old video game his mom gave to him.  Twentieth century American writer Audre Lorde is on hand to impart feminist wisdom.  The game has four levels which indicate the teachings to follow:  the Forest of Feminist Angst, the Coven of Many-Faced Mirrors, the Realm of Colorism and Peak Patriarchy.  In that final level, Jonas must defeat “the Chauvinist Monster.”

Under Victoria Collado’s uneven direction, the video game portion begins as nostalgic and promises clever visuals.  Like the rest of the play, however, things drag on and the heavy handed messaging uncomfortably coexists with humor.  The technical elements are well executed, however.

In the end, Black Feminist Video Game swings at too many targets in obvious observations to be enlightening.  There is never really meaningful dialogue with the live audience which makes these particular segments unimportant.  The video game premise remains an interesting one and the one reason to take a peek and see if you can defeat the Chauvinist Monster.

Black Feminist Video Game is being performed live through May 2, 2021 and will be available on demand from May 3 through May 9th.

www.thecivilians.org

The Canterville Ghost (Open-Door Playhouse)

A classic short story by Oscar Wilde is the first presentation of a new series titled Across the Pond Theatre.  This audio production joins the Open Door Playhouse Theatre (Pasadena, California) and Our Kid and Me Productions (Oxfordshire, UK).  The Canterville Ghost is a seemingly perfect choice given its American and British characters.

This humorous story is a tale of an American family who move to an English country house.  The house is haunted.  The Americans move in despite the warnings as they do not believe in ghosts.  The early goings suggest multiple paths.  Will this be a mystery and who is “playing” ghost?  Or is this truly a ghost story?

Sir Simon de Canterville is the spirit in question.  Many moons earlier he apparently murdered his wife.  Her brothers got their revenge and he was doomed to an eternal existence in this mansion.  The first sign is a mysterious bloodstain on the floor.  Bloodstains on the carpet will not do at all!

Simon is a real apparition, thankfully.  His haunting skills do not seem to faze the family and, especially, the three children.  The twins in particular are funny balls of mischievous energy.  Daughter Virginia has a more thoughtful role to play and becomes the heart and soul of the story.

This version is an adaption by Bernadette Armstrong with John and David Hunter.  The performance is about 45 minutes long and covers the bases well. Thunder, lightning and rain open the recording and set the mood.  A bloodstain recurs “redder and bloodier than ever.”  Mysterious and persistent noises continue.  Ominously “two skeleton hands” were “placed on her shoulder as she was dressing for dinner.”

The territory is definitely comedy but Mr. Wilde expands the scope to include the concepts of love and the meaning of life.  The casts wrings out the humor reasonably well.  Using both British and American actors provides a jarring authenticity to the two different perspectives.  While I was listening, I found some of the Americans speech too contemporary which took me out of the story.  Thinking afterward, the stylistic variations can be perceived as a exaggerated take on a comedy of manners brought into the present.

The Canterville Ghost is an easy diversion with good pacing to the storytelling.  Virginia, the heroine at the center of the tale, is praised for her “marvelous courage and pluck.”  Now there’s an expression which perfectly describes this character’s bearing.  Nothing is insurmountable if you have the guts and guile to face a situation and do the honorable thing.

The Canterville Ghost is now available on the company’s website.

www.opendoorplayhouse.org

White Rabbit Red Rabbit (Et Alia Theater)

No rehearsals, no director, a sealed script and a different performer each night.  That’s the promise made for this production of White Rabbit Red Rabbit by Iranian playwright Nassim Soleimanpour.  Since its premiere in 2011 this play has been translated into 25 languages and performed over 1,000 times.  Whoopi Goldberg, Nathan Lane and John Hurt are some of the many luminaries who have tackled this unique theatrical event.

Drawing attention to a year long international theater shutdown due to the pandemic, this play marks the anniversary with a global performance of this piece.  In every time zone throughout the world the play was performed and live streamed on the same day at 8:00 pm.  Twenty four hours in row.  Et Alia Theater in New York City represented the United States.

Giorgia Valenti takes the stage.  She is handed an envelop and opens it.  A script she has never seen before.  The set is a desk, a chair, two glasses of water, a vial and a ladder.  There are thirteen audience members wearing masks.  The playwright is playful from the start.  “I don’t know what the actor is doing,” he writes.  In his mind, this is not a play.  Rather it is an experiment.

The audience is called on in the script to jump on stage and fill roles such as the white rabbit.  Can I have a volunteer bear?  A story about a rabbit wanting to go to the circus begins.  Trouble ensues for the long-eared creature.  No one seems to be acting as who they are supposed to be.  Mr. Soleimanpour always has had “a dream of writing a play that makes one free.”

The piece jumps in and out of its story.  The tale of the rabbit going to the circus is followed by an exquisitely rendered and disturbing bunny version of Pavlov’s dogs.  Audience participation keeps the mood light but the themes hit the bullseye.  This play examines how the past makes the future and how the future is the past.  In our world dominated by racial, societal, political and religious hatred for “the other,” humankind’s collective evolution as to how we got here is beautifully abstract and entertainingly realized.

White Rabbit Red Rabbit is, however, imminently approachable.  The play often takes time to be in the moment with the audience.  When Mr. Soleimanpour seems to be getting serious, he abruptly changes the storyline.  “OK, enough fun… on to suicide!”  What follows is a deeply thought provoking meditation on all of our individual life decisions.  This would include those of us who choose living.  Life, in his words, is “the longest solution for dying.”

This play is nothing if not meta.  The playwright even gives out his email address for post-show conversation.  Given the state of the theater industry over the past year, this exercise came across as a giant group psychological therapy session.  The playwright’s voice is clear, engaging, quirky and very fun.  The play’s construction demands attention.  He wants to know who is watching.  We want to experience the words and take in this very distinct and intense voice.

For our socially distanced pandemic times, this live stream connection was a vivid reminder of the void left by our inability to be a community and share in the celebration of the creative process and what it says to us as individuals and as a society.  I’m going to send a copy of this published blog post to Mr. Soleimanpour.  He describes himself as a very hairy man.  How hairy?  “Like chewing gum stuck on the floor of a barbershop.”  I’m certain everyone around the world laughed as hard as I did.  We are, after all, more similar than different.  We’ve just not been trained that way.

Et Alia Theater presented White Rabbit Red Rabbit in association with Berlin’s Aurora Nova.

www.etaliatheater.com

www.auroranova.org

IN ONE EAR (Hunger & Thirst Theatre)

The childhood game of Telephone is the inspiration for the theatrical performance film IN ONE EAR.  The set up is one line of poetry which was sent to the first artist who created a piece of work.  After two weeks, the draft was sent to another artist who had two weeks to complete their project.  Down the line in two week increments.  Four artists viewing a draft of a piece immediately in front of theirs.  The result, in this case, is dreamy.

Gwendolyn Bennett, a prominent but not widely known poet from the Harlem Renaissance, supplies the opening gambit.  In the 1920’s she wrote “For silence is a sounding thing / To one who listens hungrily.”

Christina Liang considered Ms. Bennett’ century old prose to create Hairy Black Hole.  She is both the writer and star of this work.  At the beginning the song lyrics are familiar:  “Going to the chapel and we’re gonna get married.”  This bride, all dressed in white, is not quite elated.  The silence is deafening.  She’s sporting the bling but her mind is screaming.  “Look at me.  I’ve trapped a man.”  The dagger line follows:  “I’m worthy.”

Getting married is very rough terrain for this young lady.  She visits the toilet and gets sick.  Is it wedding day jitters or something more?  She shrugs it off but remains embarrassed.  “I look like a giant puking cream puff.”  Ms. Liang is at the alter but unconvinced about her future.  Introspection is front and center as she considers “what if I am not good enough” for this “act of self sabotage.”

Multidisciplinary artist C. Bain took that inspiration and created All Men Are Clowns.  In this film, he is running.  The tux he is wearing is open and clearly a binding trap to be escaped from.  While Ms. Liang’s wedding vision examined (and was angered by) childhood princess dreams, Mr. Bain’s thoughts are more surreal.  Through the fantastic his mind will share his own struggles.  And dreams.  The newspaper and knots imagery becomes a metaphor for exposing one’s truth.

Ashley Grombol’s Ricki Martin came next.  This delightful stop motion short was my favorite of the four vivid pieces.  On the one hand, the two individuals here share a tight bond.  Their ability to celebrate joy together is evidenced by a collaborative relationship.  Ms. Grombol takes the Telephone journey into a lighter realm.  We see the clouds and know magisterial beauty is attainable.

What elevates – and complicates – this work is a deftly executed aside regarding our throw away culture.  Here is an artist emphasizing the use of everyday discarded items as treasures.  They provide joy to the two main characters in this story (cookies!) with whimsy and cuteness.  The dreams in this work are also fantastical.  They are hopeful as well and a nice contrast to the two previous artist’s torments.

Naeemah Maddox, a singer-songwriter, created the fourth and final piece.  I Had a Dream is a lament for escape.  She sings about getting into a ship and flying away.  “The weight is heavy on my mind,” she says, “when you feel you can’t move forward and you can’t rewind.”  The song and the performance bring a nice coda to this creative exercise.

At one point Ms. Maddox mentions that she was “born into a world of cosmic pearls.”  That little detail binds all of these artist’s worldviews.  The wannabe bride marrying her Prince Charming.  The suffocating groom.  And the non-descript yet joyful couple exalting at the glory of their beautiful wedding cake.  How we read the pearls is how we approach life.  For each of us, these messages go in one ear and out the other.  Inside our heads the imprints are distinct, vital and often haunting.  How great would it be to magically turn hard, unyielding truths into a delicious cookie?

IN ONE EAR was filmed at the West Side Theater.  These four short films are being streamed for free on the Hunger and Thirst Theater website through March 21, 2021.  Take the time afterword to listen to the artist’s mid-creation thoughts.

www.hungerandthirsttheatre.com

Franz Kafka’s Letter To My Father (M-34)

At some point during the outstanding live stream performance of Franz Kafka’s Letter To My Father, yet another reference began swirling in my mind.  Lyrics from an old song from the late 1970’s band Split Enz bizarrely came into focus.  “History never repeats / I tell myself before I go to sleep / There’s a light shining in the dark / Leading me on towards a change of heart, ah.”  Both that song and Kafka’s writing explore an anguished mental condition as a result of bitter relationships.

“Don’t say the words you might regret / I lost before, you know I can’t forget.”  Why did this song pull from the filing cabinet of memory?  Kafka’s gut wrenching analysis of his relationship with his father and his obsession with the details from their past seem like thematic cousins.  Early on in this story things are obviously tense as “we are both much too old there could yet be a sort of peace, not an end to your unrelenting reproaches, but at least a mitigation of them.”  If history never repeats then why have generations upon generations of experiential patriarchal repressiveness informed the creative mind to spectacularly effect?

Kafka attempts to gut punch in this letter he wrote to his father but was never received.  With such a wonderful writer, the excoriation is both complex and vividly written.  Through this work a man is conjured back to life.  “The rhetorical devices you used in bringing me up, which were extremely effective, and at least in my case never failed, included:  insults, threats, irony, spiteful laughter and – strangely -self-pity.”  The fact that this type of father-ruler still exists today makes the work relevant and perhaps even oddly therapeutic.

Personal references continued to stream into my mind.  There is a section where Kafka writes that his father’s behavior is enigmatic like all tyrants.  You will be hard pressed not to think of Donald Trump while absorbing those descriptors.  The piece also works as a metaphor for business relationships.  Different people respond to different motivators.  Some thrive under dictators, others wither and their desire for success and happiness remains unfilled.  In the hands of an uber talented and contemplative writer, the result can be quite dazzlingly dark.

There is a reason some boys gravitate to football and others to Ru Paul’s Drag Race.  What Kafka is positing is that his existence would be far less tormented had he not been who he was, a “heady” child with an ability to store a vast amount of data in his mind.  His grievances are numerous and, brilliantly, even pointed inward.  I absolutely loved this letter.

The setting (Oona Curley and Stacey DeRosier) nominally appears to be a storage area in an office-like environment filled with boxes and boxes of filed documents.  The room really functioned as the inside brain apparatus of Kafka himself.  (Another reference came to mind:  Matt Ruff’s novel Set This House on Fire.)  When narrator Michael Guagno walks over to a shelf, you know he’s reaching in to pull out another memory, yet another trauma safely stored, sadly protected and never forgotten.

Mr. Guagno’s reading is akin to an excellent audiobook performance.  Being able to be claustrophobic in this space with him adds to the entire experience.  James Rutherford’s direction nicely varies the camera angles and provides for movement, emphasis and, especially, periods of quiet.  I sat enraptured by the storytelling and frankly amazed what it produced in my own mind.

Technically, this live stream succeeds on all creative levels including lighting, sound and music.  The audience has the ability to change views throughout.  I found the one I preferred early on and stuck with it.  I wanted to concentrate on the words and hear the brutal, guttural angst.  Frank Kafka’s Letter To My Father is unforgettably raw and riveting.  Watch this version alone and see what history your mind repeats.

M-34’s live streaming of Franz Kafka’s Letter To My Father is running on Friday nights and Sunday afternoons through March 28, 2021.

www.m-34.org

Sin Eaters (Theatre Exile)

A couple sits down to dinner in their small basement apartment.  He is unemployed.  She has just landed a temporary position at a tech company.  Mary cannot reveal what the job is because of a non-disclosure agreement.  She is nervous getting back into the workforce.  “It was easy to sit at home and be, like, fuck it.”  That’s the state of the union in 2021 as presented in the play Sin Eaters.

Derek doesn’t want to go back to catering but money is in short supply.  They desperately want to escape this basement dwelling.  Upstairs is a person suffering from PTSD of some sort.  These two seem to be a relatively well adjusted couple.  It’s just the lack of gainful employment keeping them down in their current state.

Mary heads to work and we learn that she is a content scrubber for an internet site.  She’s been hired to flag pornography, gore, racism, hate speech, torture and much, much more.  The images to be reviewed are relentless.  The sheer mass takes a toll on Mary’s psyche.  She doesn’t really let Derek in on the extent, only telling him the job is “challenging.”

There have been a number of recent plays which cover this terrain.  Russian Troll Farm also concerned itself with similar employees.  Sin Eaters, however, is more concerned about the impact on home than the workplace.  The material to process is grueling and thankless.  Then the unthinkable happens.  Mary sees a very disturbing video and believes a crime was committed.  Does she report it?

Bi Jean Ngo portrays Mary.  The most interesting aspect of this character is her unreliability.  She doesn’t trust him.  He doesn’t trust her either for that matter.  There are secrets looming, some of which are spelled out and others which are hinted at.  As a viewer, I trusted neither of them which kept me interested in the plot.

David M. Raine plays the everyday guy yet mysteriously unknowable Derek.  The performance is grounded in realism which nicely offsets an increasingly jarring turn to the phantasmagoric.  I cannot say the balance between realism and eerieness was right on under Matt Pfeiffer’s direction.  The ending in particular is very strong (and intensely off-putting in the best possible way).  The visual details seemed overcooked, however, so the scene lost some of its power.

I can say that the staging, variety of camera angles and easy scene changes were very well done.  Anna Moench’s play feels like a trip through a fun house. There are twists and turns. The mirrors where we see can ourselves and the images that will be distorted.  Your mind starts to play tricks on you.  Fear creeps in to join anxiety.  There’s no telling which direction that combination will take you.  That’s the edge we are asked to traverse in Sin Eaters.

Ms. Moench gently touches on the play’s themes but vivid spookiness (and revolting unseen imagery) is what drives the entertainment factor.  Many will not enjoy this play due to its content.  Some sections lag as we contemplate Mary’s evolving state of mind.  And what about Derek’s?  Evaluated as a whole unit, Sin Eaters is imperfect like its characters (and, by extension, us).  Sin Eaters is also wildly paranoid which makes you pay attention.

Sin Eaters is being presented by South Philadelphia’s Theatre Exile through February 28, 2021.

www.theatreexile.org

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