Tag: Play

Based on a novella by Nobel Prize winner Gabriel García Márquez, El Coronel No Tiene Quien Le Escriba is being presented in Spanish (with English supertitles) by Repertorio Español.  A veteran of a Columbian civil war, the Colonel lives with his wife in a small village under martial law.  They are impoverished and very hungry.  Every Friday he waits for the postmaster.  A letter is supposed to arrive with his pension from the war.  No mail has arrived for fifteen years, hence the story’s title which translates as “No One Writes to the Colonel.”

Director Jorge Alí Triana adapted this story with Verónica Triana.  The play opens inside the couple’s humble home.  It is still winter and the rains are persistent.  The Colonel’s spouse has asthma and is losing patience with his waiting for a check that never arrives.  She sums it up:  “we’re rotting alive.”  The action begins with the funeral procession for a recently deceased local musician, the “first natural death in a long time.”  The situation is gloomy.

The colonel’s son was murdered at a cockpit and there is a shrine to him on the wall.  His rooster is the only possession still owned by his parents.  Do they continue to feed the bird while they remain hungry?  There is an expectation that a winning rooster will be worth more money in a few months after training to be a prizefighter.  Pride for his son is certainly a factor in this decision.

This melancholic tale is beautifully told in this production.  The set designer Raúl Abrego uses simple objects and minimal fuss to create clearly defined scene changes.  A table turned one way is for the home.  Turned ninety degrees and the scene is an office.  The rainy season thematically weighs heavily down on an environment of constant repression.

Every actor in this production delivers a naturalistic performance.  As the Colonel, Sebastián Ospina’s quiet dignity and proud stature makes his unbending patience believable and heartbreaking.  Zulema Clares is Esposa (the spouse).  The years of disappointment and the struggles of day-to-day living can be seen in her every move, word and cough.

Thoughtful details enhance the viewing pleasures.  When the doctor (Luis Carlos De La Lombana) comes for a visit, he carries an umbrella and looks back towards the ground.  At first, I thought there may have been something on the floor by the audience he was carefully avoiding.  After the house call, he leaves the same way but carefully steps around the puddles he spotted earlier.  Not only is that an interesting choice, it also helps frame survival in a society with curfews under martial law.  Here is one man who is more fortunate and with an important career.  He manages to better traverse the rains pouring down all over his people.

Woven through this evocative piece is the lovely bond which holds a marriage together.  Despite their differences and a lifetime of disappointments, the deep relationship is evident and unspoken.  These are forgotten citizens discarded in a world filled with corruption and bureaucracy.  Mr. Marquez, a politically liberal writer, wants us to see societal unfairness.  This play and these performers offer a moving tribute in a truly memorable staging.

www.harlemstage.org

Productions by the Axis Company can confidently be relied upon to have atmospheric moodiness.  Written and directed by Randy Sharp, Strangers in the World imagines a time when New England was being colonized by puritans.  In 1613, a small group arrives and builds a poorly constructed village near the shoreline.  Years pass and the remaining survivors seem to be going mad with grief, starvation and hopelessness.  A plan is voted upon to head south with their remaining possessions in search of a chance for a better life.

The setting for this play is a cold forest.  The supply of food is dwindling.  Clipped, bitter and angry conversations between these colonists suggest life’s pressures have overwhelmed their ability to cope.  All the children are dead.  The vision of creating a model society devoted to godliness has long been determined a failure.  These puritans wear their devoutness like a shield of battle armor, however.

A visitor arrives on the shoreline apparently alone, his boat sunk to the bottom of the sea.  In stark contrast to their dark brown attire, his lightly colored clothing is tattered.  Should they be suspicious of him or not?  Are more boats coming to save them?  Might they be able to return home?  What about the plan to travel south, even though the city is likely a godless place?

From this outline, Strangers in the World swirls around like a cyclone revealing these character’s inner turmoils which are no longer invisible underneath their religious piety.  Their shields are fragile.  Madness is evident.  Sexual repression and murderous thoughts cannot be contained.  The interesting conflict here is the juxtaposition of idealized puritanical values and morals set against the harshness of failure and desperation.

Additional subplots emerge which enhance the claustrophobia of people trapped in their lives.  Is this new visitor a savior or a devil?  The imagery and various meanings in this play prompt good post-theater conversation.  The structure is far from linear and can be repetitive in depicting madness verging on hysteria.  The entire cast nicely embodies these frighteningly damaged souls and allows us to see them as different individuals caught in a collective nightmare.

As previously mentioned, there is an abundance of atmospheric moodiness in this production.  The theme of repression peppers the entire play.  There are moments where I feared the story was dangerously approaching caricature.  In the end, however, the theatrical risk taking pays off.  This unusual play can be recommended for adventurous theatergoers who enjoy filling in the details.

Imagine traveling to a new world and failing to survive.  Spouses and children are dead.  The food is scarce.  A blinding devotion to questionable dogma.  The fear of the unknown crippling any chance to find a better life.  Quite a bit of emotional ground is covered through these irreparately damaged souls.  What does abject terror do to people?  Strangers in the World suggests that darkness within the human soul is inescapably pervasive no matter how tight one clings to their god.

www.axiscompany.org

theaterreviewsfrommyseat/highnoon/axistheater

I remember SRA color coded reading cards from elementary and middle school.  You worked through a section independently and then moved to the next color after successful completion.  These self-directed lessons were pervasive in 1960 and 1970 classrooms.  Nerd alert:  I recall loving them.  Before that, McGuffey’s Ecletic Readers were the dominant graded primers from the mid-19th century to the mid-20th century.  Theater company Little Lord has created the inconceivably enjoyable Skinnamarink based primarily on these books.

From the 1830’s, McGuffey’s readers helped standardized English language usage in the United States.  122 million books were reportedly sold by 1925.  More Americans learned to read from this series which, not surprisingly, reflected (and shaped) moral values of the 19th century.  The first book starts with:  “The dog.  The dog ran.”  Words are accompanied by a picture.  Each lesson is progressively more difficult.  At the end of the book, some questions and moral advice are tacked on.  “Have you taken good care of your book?”  “Children should always keep their books neat and clean.”

Into the theater we now enter together.  Everyone is given a name sticker.  We are all John.  Cast members emerge.  One stands by the dunce cap.  Another looks to be in time out.  A third stands in the middle of the room.  The fourth is lying on the ground in a yellow body outline.  On to the lessons we go:  “Birds are in the nest.  Nests are in the trees…”  A woman’s voice on an intercom announces the next tasks such as roll call, exercise or snacktivity.  When the bell rings, it can simply be everyone yelling “bell, bell, bell.”

What makes Skinnamarink work so effectively is the commitment to sending up childhood memories of school while commenting on universal brainwashing.  About a larger female:  “Lucy is a greedy girl.  Why is she a glutton?”  About behavior:  “I promise not to be a naughty little girl.”  Adding in the whimsical:  “It’s just a Vitamin D shot; don’t be so paranoid.”

If you can instantly recognize a math problem which begins, “if a pound of prunes costs thirteen cents today…” then you will firmly connect with this material.  Skinnamarink is absurdist theater and very, very funny.  The entire cast is deadly serious in performing these increasingly silly and manic intervals.  When we get to a conversation about which jobs a new colony needs, a farmer is an obviously good choice.  One student suggests celebrity spokesperson.  “We don’t need anyone to tell us what’s interesting.  We know what’s interesting.”

The polish exhibited throughout this 75 minute comedy has to be credited to Little Lord’s Artistic Director and performer Michael Levinton who also helmed the staging of this physically inventive piece.  It’s ritualistic, symbolic, idiotic and smart.  That combination is not easy to do this successfully.  A couple of fun tunes like the title song and exceptionally strong lighting effects (Cha See) enliven this madcap variety show and tell.

The end notes in McGuffey’s first book states that “your parents are very kind to send you to school.  If you are good, and if you try to learn, your teacher will love you, and you will please your parents.”  Herding cats into bland uniformity has always been an unfortunate byproduct of our educational system.  But the follow up line really speaks to American values:  “When you go home, you may ask your parents to get you a Second Reader.”

I loved Skinnamarink.  It’s a hilarious blast of brightly vivid creativity, a wicked skip down memory lane and an indictment on the persistently pushed cultural homogenization of our society.  As for the future?  “When there’s nothing left here except for the recycling, you will know that I loved you.”  Bravo, all.

www.nytw.org

www.littlelord.org

New York City is preparing to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the Stonewall Riots while hosting World Pride in June.  Currently running at La Mama is a piece which examines the state of gay rights in the Balkans.  The program notes that 55 Shades of Gay: Balkan Spring of Sexual Revolution is the first theater company from Kosovo invited to share their work with an American audience.  This play so enraged a member of their Ministry of Justice that he publicly called for the beheading of its cast.  The question asked by this production:  “Is sexual liberation possible in the Balkans?”

A cast member approaches the audience at the beginning of this show.  If you are homophobic, a Christian fundamentalist or a fascist, you are encouraged to leave the theater.  What follows is not easy to describe.  The play is a political burlesque meant to shock, push buttons, entertain, point out hypocrisy and maybe even open some minds to eliminating discrimination once and for all.

An Italian company has come to a very provincial town in order to build a condom factory which will provide 200 jobs.  One of these foreigners has fallen in love with a local man.  He applies for a marriage license, supposedly allowed by the country’s European Union approved Constitution.  A wall of outrage erupts from intellectuals, politicians, religious leaders and even “professional grenade launchers.”  They work hard to keep the wedding from happening.  Even Germany’s Chancellor Angela Merkel is vilified for her stance on same sex marriage.

The small town’s mayor looks to distract the public’s attention away from this thorny issue.  He devises a scheme to plant palm trees despite the fact that the climate is wrong.  Being called crazy for planting palm trees is preferable to being labeled “the town of the butt fuckers.”  Aggressively absurdist in style, this piece does not shy away from controversy.  “Kill the faggots!” is a frequently repeated mantra.  Perhaps it’s time for a new Catholic inquisition, they ponder.  The targets for ridicule are many and far-ranging.

Equal parts flamboyant exaggeration and furious indignation, 55 Shades of Gay is a jumble of styles, languages and music.  Some scenes are played for laughs while others are intentionally provocative.  A tree across the street from the municipal building occasionally comments on the action occurring in the registrar’s office.  Even the typewriter has thoughts.  Some songs and the color pink are thrown in to this quite energetic (and also frenetic) spectacle.

As a reminder of the continued evolution of equal rights, 55 Shades of Gay is an interesting piece of theatrical experimentation.  The five Kosovar actors, particularly the lovelorn Tristan Halilaj, manage to present nicely drawn characterizations (and cartoons) amidst the grotesquerie and satire.  Overall, the performance feels a bit long likely due to repetition in the storytelling.

Head downtown to La Mama if you want to see the Qendra Multimedia theater company challenge the status quo.  A friend recently commented that the struggle for gay rights is now over since the Supreme Court ruling on gay marriage.  This show reminds us that the voices of oppression are alive and thriving.  One cast member says, “Their hatred is hysterical.  It makes me laugh.”  Here is an opportunity to laugh about no laughing matter.

www.lamama.org

www.qendra.org

“Some people go to therapy to work out their stuff,” Nicholas Linnehan informs at the start of his autobiographical play, Identity.  Not him.  Instead, “I write plays to fix myself.”  Before the first scene even starts, his character named Mike is laying bare his emotions for the audience to see.   A man with a mild case of cerebral palsy and disarthryic speech, he points out that he is different from us.  “And deep down inside, I guess I’m praying I’m really not.”

The play opens with Mike restrained on a hospital bed.  Why is he there?  What has happened?  In a series of flashback scenes, the audience is taken on a journey to comprehend, understand and empathize with life as a disabled person.  His particular road is made even more difficult as Mike is also a gay man.  Admittedly a terrible athlete despite Dad’s dreams for baseball glory, he instead found his home run in theater.  Thankfully he has shared his trials and tribulations in this original, heartfelt and engrossing confessional.

The fourth wall is broken repeatedly throughout Mr. Linnehan’s play.  His asides are wry and often hilarious.  As a straight “A” ten year old:  “by the way, I’m supposed to be much younger now.”  He stops and asks, “am I giving an Oscar worthy performance here?”  The jokes are frequent and effectively draw us in closer to his quirky and playful personality.  When he turns serious and peels back yet another layer for us to examine, the drama is vivid and quietly devastating.

Mike is living “in the crack” somewhere between abled an disabled.  As a result, he does not feel part of the normal world “if it exists.”  In a scene loaded with emotional transparency, he wishes for one more affectation of his disease “just to belong.”  Mike’s search for his identity is the basis for this play.  What makes this riveting theater is the performance itself.  He takes his audience by the hand and does not lecture.  He doesn’t demand empathy and is occasionally off-putting in his bitterness and self-deprecation.  The effect achieved allows us to see a real, imperfect and articulate human being sharing a complicated journey.  Identity certainly confronts the hard knocks of growing up but is ultimately a celebration of life and the dreams which give us hope.

At intermission, Mike confided “you are all part of this crazy thing I call a play.”  The story centers on three key figures from his past:  mom, dad and a doctor.  Dad (Tim Connell) is largely a one-dimensional tyrant but seems to have been written that way since these scenes are extracted from Mr. Linnehan’s memories.  Amy Liszka’s endearing, chain smoking Mom is the more sympathetic parent but even she struggles with unequivocal love and support.  It is no surprise that the Doctor (Matthew Tyler) is perhaps the most important character on this stage.  His eyes are our window into the clinical and distancing part of this expressively therapeutic play.

Christopher Scott directed Identity with a loosely informal style but with clearly defined scenes ranging from naturalistic to abstractly provocative.  In the small (and quite nice) basement theater at El Barrio Artspace, Mike’s parents try to grasp whether their son is happy.  His doctor also wonders the same thing.  At the end of this memorable tale Mr. Linnehan turns to the audience and asks, “Am I happy?”  It’s worth your time to find out the answer in this uniquely fascinating work.

www.artspaceps109.org

www.identitytheater.com

A very pregnant woman is helping her family cope with mother’s impending death from Stage 4 cancer.  Dad teaches Tai Chi.  Mom is a painter.  Her Aunt is an actress who has just arrived to offer support to her dying sister.  Jane is a Buddhist and wants a burial cremation involving a bonfire not hospice care.  The doorbell rings.  The simple pine box coffin has arrived.  Aunt Lydia is named Death Coordinator.  There is going to be Dying in Boulder.

The attractive set design by Yu-Hsuan Chen is dominated by a large Japanese-style rock garden.  The tranquility of the space suggests a place for meditation and calm.  Aunt Lydia is troubled by the family’s preparation for her sister Jane’s death only to hear “what she needs now is comfort, not hope.”  Linda Faigao-Hall’s play examines our fear of death using comedy to hold a mirror to western practices and beliefs.

Jane’s death bed wishes include a karmic cleansing.  She’d rather not take her issues into the afterlife.  Slow deaths are a blessing as there’s “time for atonement.”  She wants to have private heart-to-heart chats with everyone.  One family member never returned after their “talk.”  Dying in Boulder begins as a dark comedy which explores our reactions to end of life care.

Max arrives to offer support for her journey to the next phase of existence.  Jane attended his workshop “The Buddhist Way to Die, Part I.”  For every lighthearted joke, there are also deeper musings which emerge.  There is “no shame in growing old; it’s part of being human.”  The first act swings unevenly between humor and wisdom.  Flashbacks (often laced with jokes) are used to fill in backstories; some are silly, others are appalling which at least gives the play a jolt of adrenaline.

The second act veers uncomfortably from light and slightly edgy comedy to a much darker place.  Jane may be a dying Buddhist but she has some death bed cruelty to administer.  Sordid family secrets and baggage have to be aired out before the karmic cleansing will be complete.  The soap opera unfolds and comedy takes a back seat to a laundry list of familial slights and life regrets.  Although the death bed one-on-one conversations were foretold in the first act, nothing suggested the extent of the dramatic overload which came later.

As daughter Nikki, Mallory Ann Wu successfully navigated her character’s conflicts and emotions.  Resigned to her mother’s impending death, she becomes the moral center of the play.  Can the next generation learn from the mistakes of previous ones?  Is forgiveness possible or even necessary?  After questioning her own upbringing and now about to have a baby, can she make family her passion (rather than career)?

Ms. Faigao-Hall has written a play filled with the thoughts and absurdities of a life imperfectly lived.  The imperfection is in the eye of the beholder.  The regret may be in the mind of the dying.  The uneasy mix of sitcom laughs and stinging family dysfunction ultimately hinders the play’s focus.  The consideration of one’s own Dying in Boulder is an interesting notion worthy of exploration.  I hope mine is funnier with histrionics kept to a minimum.

www.lamama.org