Two years ago, the Guthrie premiered a new play Familiar by Danai Gurira. You may know her from a little movie called Black Panther or the obscure TV show The Walking Dead, but before her success on the big and small screen she started her career in theater, including at St. Paul's Macalester College. Now Frank Theatre is bringing us the regional premiere of her 2012 play The Convert, having previously produced Eclipsed in 2010 (which went on to become Danai's first show on Broadway). While Familiar is a dramedy about a Zimbabwean-Minnesotan family (based on her own), The Convert is a much more serious look at the history of Zimbabwe, in particular the colonialism and missionary work in which the English tried to subdue, subjugate, and convert the native Shona people. In particular it tells the story of one young woman who seems to happily convert to Roman Catholicism, but feels conflict at leaving the ways of her people behind. It's an intense play that humanizes the people on all sides of this conflict, as always thoroughly and thoughtfully realized by director Wendy Knox, the strong seven-person cast, and the creative team.
Showing posts with label Hope Cervantes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hope Cervantes. Show all posts
Saturday, February 22, 2020
Wednesday, March 20, 2019
"School Girls; or, the African Mean Girls Play" at the Jungle Theater
On the heels of the remount of the 2018 hit The Wolves, Jungle Theater brings us another smart, funny, touching, nuanced portrayal of teenage girls in the new play School Girls; or, the African Mean Girls Play by Ghanaian-American playwright Jocelyn Bioh. But this time instead of American soccer players, the girls are students at a prestigious boarding school in Ghana. Although their lives growing up in West Africa are likely very different from most of you reading this blog, their emotions, struggles, triumphs, and dreams are the same. In a very fast 70 minutes, we get a glimpse into these girls' lives as they deal with family pressure, poverty, bullying, competition, colorism, and problematic standards of beauty. Like in The Wolves, they're all fully formed complex humans that I'd like to spend more time with.
Monday, March 27, 2017
"Citizen: An American Lyric" by Frank Theatre at Intermedia Arts
Frank Theatre describes their latest production as follows:
A searing representation of the current American zeitgeist, CITIZEN: AN AMERICAN LYRIC [by Claudia Rankine] is a boundary-bending work of poetry/prose/criticism, adapted for the stage by Stephen Sachs. A 6-member "ensemble piece... floats between dream and reality, narration and performance, and challenges its audience's perceptions," as it examines the ways racism pervades daily life in America, from highly visible news accounts to the daily microaggressions that render certain citizens invisible in our culture.That's a pretty apt description for this piece that is more than theater, it's a lesson for how to be in this world. But it doesn't feel like a lesson, it doesn't feel preachy, rather it lays bare the flaws in our society in the way that we deal with race, historically and currently. Only four more performances remain this weekend, and if you're interested in a powerful, disturbing, and transfixing piece of theater that goes beyond mere performance, I recommend that you reserve your tickets now (the show I attended was sold out).
Sunday, January 24, 2016
"Great Expectations" at Park Square Theatre
Expectations are high for Park Square Theatre's world premiere of a new adaptation of Charles Dickens' novel Great Expectations. Building expectations are a well-known and beloved novel, adaptation and direction by veteran local director Joel Sass, a diverse and talented cast, and the fact that Park Square has been continually raising the bar these last few years with the addition of a second stage and greater commitment to diversity of casting and programming. After attending opening night this weekend, I'm happy to report that these Great Expectations have been met with this innovative, funny, creepy, clever, suspenseful, and very well done production.
Sunday, September 20, 2015
"Things of Dry Hours" by Frank Theatre at the Playwrights' Center
Playwright Naomi Wallace's One Flea Spare, staged by Theater Coup d'Etat, was one of my favorite theater experiences last year. So I was eager to see more of her work in Frank Theatre's production of Things of Dry Hours. Frank always does interesting, thoughtful, meaningful work, and this one is no exception. Dealing with communism, racism, and sexism in 1930s Alabama, Things of Dry Hours doesn't on the surface bear much resemblance to One Flea Spare, set in plague-ridden 17th Century London. But it's another dense, poetic, and thought-provoking piece by this playwright and this company.
Tice Hogan is a communist in 1932 Birmingham, one of the few places in that time and city where black and white people could come together as equals. He tells us in the opening monologue that he owns two books - a big Bible, and The Communist Manifesto, a slim volume but just as important to him. But being a member of the party could also get him in trouble with the local mining company, so when an unknown white man comes knocking at the door of the house he shares with his daughter Cali, saying the party sent him, he's suspicious. Corbin was fired from the mine and hit the man who fired him with a steel pipe, probably killing him. He gives Tice the name of a mutual friend who says that he could shelter him. Tice reluctantly agrees to let him stay for one week until things cool down, and eventually begins to teach him about communism. Cali gives him porridge in the morning and soup in the evening, but Corbin wants more from her, first a kind word, then a kiss. Cali takes a shine to him too, but knows that nothing good can come of that.
There's a lot going on in this play. The idea of communism and the struggle of the working people to be treated fairly, the extreme and overt racism of 1932 Alabama, and gender inequality. I found the most powerful of these to be Cali's stories about life as a poor black woman who earns a living doing laundry for rich white people, gathering bits and pieces of their lives where she can. She's able to briefly turn that power dynamic on its head in a bit of play-acting with Corbin, so perhaps just for a brief moment he can understand what it's like to be her.
Director Wendy Knox and her three-person cast do a great job bringing this complicated story and layered characters to life, including Hope Cervantes as Cali, Sam Bardwell as Corbin, and Warren C. Bowles, stepping into the role of Tice just the day before the first preview. Other than the fact that he relies on the script in a few scenes, there's no sign of this last-minute change, the three actors work together well. John Beuche has created a simple and lifelike set for them to play on, with a raised wooden floor representing the living space of the cabin with runways leading to it from either side, and bare trees in the space outside the cabin. Completing the scene is the wonderful soundtrack of what I like to call old-timey music playing before the show and at intermission (sound design by Dan Dukich).
If I hadn't read it ahead of time, I'm not sure I would have known Things of Dry Hours was written by the same playwright as One Flea Spare. I don't see a lot of of similarities, other than obscure titles and a strangely poetic analogy that ties the story together. In One Flea Spare it's water on stone, in Things of Dry Hours it's an apple (which I admit I didn't completely get, it would require a bit more contemplation on a better night's sleep). But it's a fascinating and well-done story that's worth the effort (continuing at the Playwrights' Center through October 4).
Tice Hogan is a communist in 1932 Birmingham, one of the few places in that time and city where black and white people could come together as equals. He tells us in the opening monologue that he owns two books - a big Bible, and The Communist Manifesto, a slim volume but just as important to him. But being a member of the party could also get him in trouble with the local mining company, so when an unknown white man comes knocking at the door of the house he shares with his daughter Cali, saying the party sent him, he's suspicious. Corbin was fired from the mine and hit the man who fired him with a steel pipe, probably killing him. He gives Tice the name of a mutual friend who says that he could shelter him. Tice reluctantly agrees to let him stay for one week until things cool down, and eventually begins to teach him about communism. Cali gives him porridge in the morning and soup in the evening, but Corbin wants more from her, first a kind word, then a kiss. Cali takes a shine to him too, but knows that nothing good can come of that.
There's a lot going on in this play. The idea of communism and the struggle of the working people to be treated fairly, the extreme and overt racism of 1932 Alabama, and gender inequality. I found the most powerful of these to be Cali's stories about life as a poor black woman who earns a living doing laundry for rich white people, gathering bits and pieces of their lives where she can. She's able to briefly turn that power dynamic on its head in a bit of play-acting with Corbin, so perhaps just for a brief moment he can understand what it's like to be her.
Hope Cervantes, Warren Bowles, and Sam Bardwell |
If I hadn't read it ahead of time, I'm not sure I would have known Things of Dry Hours was written by the same playwright as One Flea Spare. I don't see a lot of of similarities, other than obscure titles and a strangely poetic analogy that ties the story together. In One Flea Spare it's water on stone, in Things of Dry Hours it's an apple (which I admit I didn't completely get, it would require a bit more contemplation on a better night's sleep). But it's a fascinating and well-done story that's worth the effort (continuing at the Playwrights' Center through October 4).
Monday, March 17, 2014
"The Things They Carried" and "Lonely Soldiers: Women at War in Iraq" at the History Theatre
The History Theatre is currently producing two plays in rep, both dealing with the effects of war on the soldiers who fight in them. The Things They Carried is based on the semi-autobiographical collection of short stories by Tim O'Brien, a Minnesota man who was drafted out of college in 1968 and sent to Vietnam. Lonely Soldiers: Women at War in Iraq is also based on a book - a series of interviews with women who served in the Iraq War. I saw both plays in one day, which makes for a pretty heavy day. But it's a nice pairing of plays that show different perspectives of war. Both tell really powerful and important stories and feature fine acting, but one affected me much more deeply.
Lonely Soldiers: Women at War in Iraq
After seeing this play I was completely devastated. I had a hard time shaking it. It was one of the most powerful experiences I've had at the theater in quite some time. Because it's not just theater, and it's not just history (both of which the History Theatre does so well), it's about very real and devastating issues facing women in the military. Based on the 2009 book by Helen Benedict, who also wrote the play, Lonely Soldiers tells the stories of seven women who served in the military in Iraq. Helen spent countless hours interviewing these and other women over a period of several years, and their words form the text of the play. The result is a very real and brutal examination of how our military, and our society in a broader sense, tolerates harassment and assault of women.
The play is constructed as a series of monologues using the women's own words. They speak directly to the audience, sharing their varied reasons for joining the military (economic, family pressure, rebellion) and their experiences that were so different from their expectations. Each story is different, yet they're all the same, as they all experience various forms and degrees of harassment from their male counterparts and superiors, with no one to talk to about it. The stories unfold separately, and it's not until the end, when they're home and trying to process what they've been through, that the women start to look at each other and talk to each other, and there's a feeling of relief that can finally share their stories, with each other and with the audience.
This cast of seven women (and one man, Santino Craven, who has the thankless job of portraying the mostly not-so-nice men in the women's stories), so completely embodies these characters that you almost believe that they are them. Jamecia Bennet, Shana Berg, Dawn Brodey, Hope Cervantes, Tamara Clark, Meghan Kreidler, and Rhiana Yazzie all give such devastatingly real performances, under the direction of Austene Van, who noted in the program, "The notion that someone who takes on the responsibility to serve and protect with their very lives is left unprotected and damaged forever by those who should be trusted is difficult to fully grasp." Indeed. These women's lives is so far from my experience, I can't even imagine a world like that, but now I don't have to because this play allowed me to experience a little bit of it. And that's about as close to war as I ever want to get. I had tears in the back of my eyes for the entire ninety minutes, and I don't even know anyone in the military.
There was a talk-back after the show I attended, with the playwright, director, and cast onstage to answer questions. There were several women vets in the audience, and those who worked with them in their recovery, and some of them stood up and told similar stories to what we had just heard, which brought another level of reality to the experience. Because of the book and the documentary that it inspired, The Invisible War, there is hopefully more awareness now of how women are treated in the military, but it's certainly still going on.
The Things They Carried
In this one-man show directed by Leah Cooper, Stephen D'Ambrose plays Tim O'Brien, the author of the book. He begins by sitting at his desk writing, and soon speaks directly to the audience, telling stories of his time in Vietnam. It's as if he's reliving the stories as he's writing them down. He occasionally repeats a line as he goes back to his desk to write it in his notebook, almost as if he's telling it for the first time and wants to get it down on paper before he forgets it. As he's telling the story, Stephen also plays many other characters, including his buddies, his family, and the man who "saved his life."
Many stories and vignettes are told in the two-act play, but the most compelling are about his trip to the Canadian border shortly after he was drafted, where he contemplated leaving the country to avoid going to war. It's an extremely compelling story, well-told by the author and actor. The second act largely focuses on the death of his best friend, and his journey back to Vietnam 20 years later to attempt some closure. All of the stories are told with beautiful, almost poetic language (most of which I assume comes from the book), wonderfully delivered by Stephen. This is theater at its most basic form - storytelling.
Since the two plays alternate dates over the next several weeks, they share the same basic set (designed by Sarah Brander). The sand-colored floor and weathered wooden slat backdrop works for both. The steps and rock formations in Lonely Soldiers are replaced by office furniture in The Things They Carried. It's an efficient sharing of space.
These two plays really fit well together, but if you can only see one of them, I would recommend Lonely Soldiers. Stories from Vietnam, although still important and relevant, have been told in many forms over the past 40 years. But the stories told in Lonely Soldiers have only recently begun to be heard, and they need to be heard. See the History Theatre website for more info on both plays (and you can find discount tickets for Lonely Soldiers on Goldstar).
Lonely Soldiers: Women at War in Iraq
After seeing this play I was completely devastated. I had a hard time shaking it. It was one of the most powerful experiences I've had at the theater in quite some time. Because it's not just theater, and it's not just history (both of which the History Theatre does so well), it's about very real and devastating issues facing women in the military. Based on the 2009 book by Helen Benedict, who also wrote the play, Lonely Soldiers tells the stories of seven women who served in the military in Iraq. Helen spent countless hours interviewing these and other women over a period of several years, and their words form the text of the play. The result is a very real and brutal examination of how our military, and our society in a broader sense, tolerates harassment and assault of women.
The play is constructed as a series of monologues using the women's own words. They speak directly to the audience, sharing their varied reasons for joining the military (economic, family pressure, rebellion) and their experiences that were so different from their expectations. Each story is different, yet they're all the same, as they all experience various forms and degrees of harassment from their male counterparts and superiors, with no one to talk to about it. The stories unfold separately, and it's not until the end, when they're home and trying to process what they've been through, that the women start to look at each other and talk to each other, and there's a feeling of relief that can finally share their stories, with each other and with the audience.
the cast of Lonely Soldiers (photo by Scott Pakudaitis) |
There was a talk-back after the show I attended, with the playwright, director, and cast onstage to answer questions. There were several women vets in the audience, and those who worked with them in their recovery, and some of them stood up and told similar stories to what we had just heard, which brought another level of reality to the experience. Because of the book and the documentary that it inspired, The Invisible War, there is hopefully more awareness now of how women are treated in the military, but it's certainly still going on.
The Things They Carried
In this one-man show directed by Leah Cooper, Stephen D'Ambrose plays Tim O'Brien, the author of the book. He begins by sitting at his desk writing, and soon speaks directly to the audience, telling stories of his time in Vietnam. It's as if he's reliving the stories as he's writing them down. He occasionally repeats a line as he goes back to his desk to write it in his notebook, almost as if he's telling it for the first time and wants to get it down on paper before he forgets it. As he's telling the story, Stephen also plays many other characters, including his buddies, his family, and the man who "saved his life."
Stephen D'Ambrose in The Tings They Carried (photo by Scott Pakudaitis) |
Since the two plays alternate dates over the next several weeks, they share the same basic set (designed by Sarah Brander). The sand-colored floor and weathered wooden slat backdrop works for both. The steps and rock formations in Lonely Soldiers are replaced by office furniture in The Things They Carried. It's an efficient sharing of space.
These two plays really fit well together, but if you can only see one of them, I would recommend Lonely Soldiers. Stories from Vietnam, although still important and relevant, have been told in many forms over the past 40 years. But the stories told in Lonely Soldiers have only recently begun to be heard, and they need to be heard. See the History Theatre website for more info on both plays (and you can find discount tickets for Lonely Soldiers on Goldstar).
Saturday, September 21, 2013
"Good People" at Park Square Theatre
The first production of Park Square Theatre's 2013-2014 season is the new play Good People, which had a short run on Broadway in 2011 (but long enough to win Frances McDormand a Tony). Written by David Lindsay-Abaire, it's sharp, funny, intense, and heart-breaking at times, full of complex characters, most of whom are not particularly likeable, but are certainly entertaining. The tone is reminiscent of Lindsay-Abaire's most well-known play Rabbit Hole; both deal with some pretty heavy issues with realism and humor. Joel Sass directs a solid cast of six (and designed the beautiful set), who bring to life this complicated story with its issues of class and gender, echoing the real-life stories heard on the nightly news.
Good People is centered around the tough and vulnerable Margaret (a strong performance by Virginia S. Burke) as she's fired for her job as cashier at a dollar store by Stevie (Sam Pearson, making the most of the small role). Margaret is a single mother of a developmentally disabled adult daughter and has never been able to climb out of the lower-class life into which she was born. With the help of her friends (scene stealers Jane Hammill and Angela Timberman) she decides to approach childhood friend Mike (James Denton, best known as another very different Mike on Desperate Housewives, making his welcome debut on the Minnesota stage). Unlike Margaret, Mike has gotten out of South Boston and is now a wealthy doctor with a young wife and daughter and a seemingly perfect life. He's unable to offer Margaret a job, but he does reluctantly invite her to his birthday party at his home in the nice part of town. Margaret shows up at his house and meets his wife Kate (an appropriately polished Hope Cervantes), where the pleasant reminiscing about the good old days turns ugly when they discuss why one of them was able to "get out of Southie" while the other wasn't. It's not just "hard work" as Mike says, but also good luck, family support, and gender privilege (sometimes it's easier for a man to leave his past behind than it is for a woman to leave hers behind). This second-act discussion is almost too intense; it feels like you're eavesdropping on a very personal argument.
The cast works together very well, and despite only having three weeks of rehearsal they realistically act as old friends, and have conquered the South Boston accent. James Denton fits in well with our local theater actors and I was happy to discover that his natural charm on-screen translates to the stage. But Virginia Burke is the star of this show; her layered performance as Margaret makes you sympathize with her despite some questionable choices. The rapport between the three Southie women is priceless as they bicker, cajole, and support each other, particularly in the highly entertaining bingo scenes. Angela Timbermann never fails to crack me up, as Miss Hannigan or Scrooge's boozy housekeeper, and this play is no exception (in fact I think she was cracking up some of her castmates as well). There are plenty of laughs to balance out the uncomfortably intense confrontations.
Director Joel Sass (who often works at the Jungle Theater, which has the best sets in town) designed this very cool set, which is actually comprised of five very different sets that float on and off stage, four of which only appear once. All are detailed and realistic, from a garbage-strewn alley to a downtown doctor's office, from a very lived-in kitchen to a pristine upper class living room. As each scene ends, the set moves away and reveals another behind it, as we peel back the layers of the story.
A well-written and relevant new play, a great cast that plays well together, and excellent set design - another winner for Park Square Theater (playing now through October 6).
Good People is centered around the tough and vulnerable Margaret (a strong performance by Virginia S. Burke) as she's fired for her job as cashier at a dollar store by Stevie (Sam Pearson, making the most of the small role). Margaret is a single mother of a developmentally disabled adult daughter and has never been able to climb out of the lower-class life into which she was born. With the help of her friends (scene stealers Jane Hammill and Angela Timberman) she decides to approach childhood friend Mike (James Denton, best known as another very different Mike on Desperate Housewives, making his welcome debut on the Minnesota stage). Unlike Margaret, Mike has gotten out of South Boston and is now a wealthy doctor with a young wife and daughter and a seemingly perfect life. He's unable to offer Margaret a job, but he does reluctantly invite her to his birthday party at his home in the nice part of town. Margaret shows up at his house and meets his wife Kate (an appropriately polished Hope Cervantes), where the pleasant reminiscing about the good old days turns ugly when they discuss why one of them was able to "get out of Southie" while the other wasn't. It's not just "hard work" as Mike says, but also good luck, family support, and gender privilege (sometimes it's easier for a man to leave his past behind than it is for a woman to leave hers behind). This second-act discussion is almost too intense; it feels like you're eavesdropping on a very personal argument.
Jane Hammill, Angela Timbermann, Virginia Burke, and Sam Pearson play bingo (photo by Petronella Ytsma) |
things get heated (Hope Cervantes, Virginia Burke, and James Denton, photo by Petronella Ytsma) |
A well-written and relevant new play, a great cast that plays well together, and excellent set design - another winner for Park Square Theater (playing now through October 6).
I couldn't resist a photo op with Jamie! You can also catch him as host of the Ivey's pre-show party. |
Saturday, April 13, 2013
"In the Time of the Butterflies / En el Tiempo de las Mariposas" at Mixed Blood Theatre
Mixed Blood Theatre often has surtitles during their plays, I assume to make them more accessible to the hearing impaired. But in the case of their new play In the Time of the Butterflies, the surtitles are needed to translate from spoken Spanish to English and from spoken English to Spanish. I don't speak a word of Spanish, but like in foreign films, you soon get used to reading the words while simultaneously getting the emotional content from the actors' performances. And there is much emotional content in this play. It's based on the historical novel of the same name, a fictionalized account of the Mirabel sisters. The four sisters were political dissidents in the Dominican Republic who worked to overthrow the dictator Trujillo, aka El Jefe, who is believed to have ordered the deaths of 50,000 people during his thirty-year reign. Three of the sisters were among those numbers. The one surviving sister, Dede, tells their story and keeps their memory alive.
In the Time of the Butterflies is constructed in the framework of memory. Dede is telling her story to a Dominican-American writer who is writing it down to tell the world. It's a painful story, but a pleasant one too as Dede remembers the happy times with her sisters in their family's garden. The story is told partly through Dede's reminiscing, and partly through scenes of the sisters interacting with each other and reading diary entries. It starts when they are young girls with hopes and dreams, and continues as they see those dreams thwarted by El Jefe. He invites the sisters to a party, and when Minverva rejects his advances, he puts their father in jail and they are forever on his "naughty list." As the years advance, the sisters, especially Minerva who studies to be a lawyer but is prevented from practicing, become more and more involved in trying to end Trujillo's dictatorial reign. Youngest sister Maria Teresa joins her, and eventually so does Patria. Dede reluctantly gives the group a place to meet, but is concerned for her family's safety. And rightly so - Minerva and Maria Teresa are jailed and tortured. They are eventually released, but their story, along with Patria's, comes to a tragic end. Dede is left to deal with her feelings and represent the heroism of her sisters to the world.
This bilingual cast of seven is equally great and expressive in English and Spanish, flowing back and forth between the two languages smoothly. As the only man in the cast, Raul Ramos is downright creepy as the evil dictator, and also plays several other roles. Maria Gonzalez as the one surviving sister is elegant and proud, mournful and hopeful. Hope Cervantes is the attentive and curious modern American writer, who has her own story about coming home to the land of her ancestors. The four sisters are wonderfully played by Maggie Bofill, Claudia de Vasco, Adlyn Carreras, and Thallis Santesteban, with a genuine feeling of camaraderie and occasional tension between them. They also look beautiful, thanks in part to the parade of dresses they're put in by costumer Jeffrey Bleam. From the innocent white dresses of the opening scene, to the flowery dresses in the garden, and everything in between, they manage to look classic and period-appropriate yet fresh and modern.
This play is the second in a year of plays written by women produced by Mixed Blood* (written by Caridad Svich based on the novel by Julia Alverez). The first was the hilariously biting comedy Elemeno Pea by Molly Smith Metzler, and the remaining are TBA. I think this is a fantastically bold choice by Mixed Blood, but not surprising considering their commitment to diversity of all kinds, which is not just words but can be seen in every play they produce. As Artistic Director Jack Reuler notes in the playbill, "In our so-called liberal entertainment industry, the gender balance of writers, directors, and producers remains profoundly imbalanced. We are proud to walk our talk, practice what we preach, and live our mission in this arena." Right on. I'll be watching.
*My one complaint about Mixed Blood Theatre, which I admire more and more the more I see of their work, is that they consistently do not put artist bios in their playbills. As someone who likes to make connections between the many shows I see, I find this disappointing. But it's a very minor quibble for a theater that does such amazing and diverse work.
In the Time of the Butterflies is constructed in the framework of memory. Dede is telling her story to a Dominican-American writer who is writing it down to tell the world. It's a painful story, but a pleasant one too as Dede remembers the happy times with her sisters in their family's garden. The story is told partly through Dede's reminiscing, and partly through scenes of the sisters interacting with each other and reading diary entries. It starts when they are young girls with hopes and dreams, and continues as they see those dreams thwarted by El Jefe. He invites the sisters to a party, and when Minverva rejects his advances, he puts their father in jail and they are forever on his "naughty list." As the years advance, the sisters, especially Minerva who studies to be a lawyer but is prevented from practicing, become more and more involved in trying to end Trujillo's dictatorial reign. Youngest sister Maria Teresa joins her, and eventually so does Patria. Dede reluctantly gives the group a place to meet, but is concerned for her family's safety. And rightly so - Minerva and Maria Teresa are jailed and tortured. They are eventually released, but their story, along with Patria's, comes to a tragic end. Dede is left to deal with her feelings and represent the heroism of her sisters to the world.
the Mirabel sisters |
This play is the second in a year of plays written by women produced by Mixed Blood* (written by Caridad Svich based on the novel by Julia Alverez). The first was the hilariously biting comedy Elemeno Pea by Molly Smith Metzler, and the remaining are TBA. I think this is a fantastically bold choice by Mixed Blood, but not surprising considering their commitment to diversity of all kinds, which is not just words but can be seen in every play they produce. As Artistic Director Jack Reuler notes in the playbill, "In our so-called liberal entertainment industry, the gender balance of writers, directors, and producers remains profoundly imbalanced. We are proud to walk our talk, practice what we preach, and live our mission in this arena." Right on. I'll be watching.
*My one complaint about Mixed Blood Theatre, which I admire more and more the more I see of their work, is that they consistently do not put artist bios in their playbills. As someone who likes to make connections between the many shows I see, I find this disappointing. But it's a very minor quibble for a theater that does such amazing and diverse work.
Monday, September 17, 2012
"The Way of Water" by Frank Theatre at the Playwrights' Center
"An explosion on April 20, 2010, aboard the Deepwater Horizon, a drilling rig working on a well for the oil company BP one mile below the surface of the Gulf of Mexico, led to the largest 'accidental' oil spill disaster in history. Residents who live along the coast of the Gulf of Mexico, all the way from Terrebonne Parish, Louisiana, to well into western Florida, continue to suffer acute symptoms attributed to ongoing exposure to toxic chemicals being released from BP's crude oil and the toxic Corexit dispersants used to sink it. Thousands of deaths along the Gulf Coast region have been linked to this toxic damage. This devastation is being deemed by many in the health and science filed as the equivalent of Agent Orange in Vietnam."
Such is the backdrop of Frank Theatre's new production, The Way of Water, playing at The Playwrights' Center now through the end of the month. This is a tragedy that's so huge in scope, it's difficult to think about in a real sort of way, as we watch it play out on the TV news. But this play personalizes it, telling the story of four people whose lives are drastically and devastatingly changed because of what happened.
Jimmy and Yuki are friends and fishermen, making their living catching and selling fish on the gulf. They know nothing else; Jimmy's family has been in the fishing business for generations. After the oil spill they continue to do what they know, even though much of the water and fish have been contaminated. Their wives help out however they can, selling homemade flowers and found vases at flea markets. But the spill has taken a toll on their spirits and their livelihoods, and on their bodies. Jimmy experiences dizzy spells and "fits," but refuses to go to the doctor until it's too late. Jimmy and his wife are forced to leave their home, live with family, and try to make a life somewhere else.
This solid four-person cast is led by H. Adam Harris as Jimmy. He's strong and sympathetic as a man trying to hold on to a lifestyle that no longer works, and Jimmy's "fits" are so real it's painful to watch. Hope Cervantes is an equal partner as his supportive wife Rosalie, trying to hold the family together with grace. Also good are Eric Sharp as Jimmy's fishing buddy Yuki and Emily Zimmer as Yuki's wife\Rosalie's best friend\Jimmy's ex. The writing, by Caridad Svich, is sparse and powerful. There are no wasted words; characters often speak in one-word sentences. The simple but effective set (by Joseph Stanley) is dominated by an unkempt and lived-in backyard, with the fishing pier overlooking it on the left.
Surprisingly, this is my first Frank Theatre show since last year's fabulous, gritty, and moving production of Cabaret. I'm not sure what took me so long, but I'm glad I didn't miss this one. They do good work, important work, such as in this play (directed by Artistic Director Wendy Knox) - reducing the scope of an immense tragedy to something manageable, understandable, relatable, and human.
Such is the backdrop of Frank Theatre's new production, The Way of Water, playing at The Playwrights' Center now through the end of the month. This is a tragedy that's so huge in scope, it's difficult to think about in a real sort of way, as we watch it play out on the TV news. But this play personalizes it, telling the story of four people whose lives are drastically and devastatingly changed because of what happened.
Jimmy and Yuki are friends and fishermen, making their living catching and selling fish on the gulf. They know nothing else; Jimmy's family has been in the fishing business for generations. After the oil spill they continue to do what they know, even though much of the water and fish have been contaminated. Their wives help out however they can, selling homemade flowers and found vases at flea markets. But the spill has taken a toll on their spirits and their livelihoods, and on their bodies. Jimmy experiences dizzy spells and "fits," but refuses to go to the doctor until it's too late. Jimmy and his wife are forced to leave their home, live with family, and try to make a life somewhere else.
This solid four-person cast is led by H. Adam Harris as Jimmy. He's strong and sympathetic as a man trying to hold on to a lifestyle that no longer works, and Jimmy's "fits" are so real it's painful to watch. Hope Cervantes is an equal partner as his supportive wife Rosalie, trying to hold the family together with grace. Also good are Eric Sharp as Jimmy's fishing buddy Yuki and Emily Zimmer as Yuki's wife\Rosalie's best friend\Jimmy's ex. The writing, by Caridad Svich, is sparse and powerful. There are no wasted words; characters often speak in one-word sentences. The simple but effective set (by Joseph Stanley) is dominated by an unkempt and lived-in backyard, with the fishing pier overlooking it on the left.
Surprisingly, this is my first Frank Theatre show since last year's fabulous, gritty, and moving production of Cabaret. I'm not sure what took me so long, but I'm glad I didn't miss this one. They do good work, important work, such as in this play (directed by Artistic Director Wendy Knox) - reducing the scope of an immense tragedy to something manageable, understandable, relatable, and human.
H. Adam Harris, Hope Cervantes, Emily Zimmer, and Eric Sharp |
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