"Blood Knot" at Pillsbury House Theatre

Despite being written almost 60 years ago in a country on the other side of the planet, Blood Knot, currently playing at Pillsbury House Theatre, feels very relevant to the here and now. Through the story of two brothers, one dark-skinned and one light enough to pass for white, South African playwright Athol Fugard explores the complex issues of racism and white privilege, before that term was in our collective consciousness. It's remarkable that this play was performed (for one performance only) in Johannesburg in 1961, with it's strong anti-apartheid message. But even in Minnesota in 2019, we still have lessons to learn from it. This is a powerful, intense, and sobering play, beautifully acted by two beloved #TCTheater veterans.

"Marjorie Prime" by Prime Productions at Park Square Theatre

New #TCTheater company Prime Productions "seeks to explore, illuminate and support women over fifty and their stories through the creative voice of performance." Hooray! Their third full production just opened at Park Square Theatre, and it's another high quality thought-provoking play featuring women in their prime. The regional premiere of the new play Marjorie Prime by playwright Jordan Harrison is, like his play Maple and Vine, a little trippy and creepy. But instead of a scary Stepford society, it deals with artificial intelligence and the benefits and possibly scary consequences of technology. But it also deals with very human issues of aging, death, grief, and complicated family relationships.

"The Hobbit" at Children's Theatre Company

Children's Theatre Company proves that you don't need eight hours, the most advanced technology for visual effects, and 765 million dollars to tell J.R.R. Tolkien's slimmest and sweetest story about the unlikeliest of heroes in literature. You can do it in just two hours with five actors, two musicians, and a whole lot of heart and imagination. The new adaptation of The Hobbit by playwright/director Greg Banks (who shockingly had never read the book before beginning this project), with music by Thomas Johnson, is a wonderful way to bring this story to new audiences, as well as delight Tolkien enthusiasts like myself with the inventive storytelling of a familiar and beloved story.

"Stewardess!" at the Herstory Theatre

This spring, the History Theatre, which regularly produces new works of theater about local and national history, has transformed into the HERstory Theater, with three new plays by women, about women: "real women, real stories." The line-up includes a new musical about a female spy and a play about some radical nuns. But first: Stewardess! This new play by Kira Obolensky tells the true story of a real American hero, Mary Pat Laffey, who tirelessly worked for the union to improve the working conditions and treatment of then-called stewardesses, and even sued her employer, Northwest Airlines, eventually winning $59 million dollars in back pay for over 3000 flight attendants. Unfortunately we're not yet at the point of equal pay for women and men, but thanks to Mary Pat we're a lot closer. This fun, playful, inspiring play tells her story, as well as that of other feminists of the era, at just the right time. There's a growing awareness of the importance of women's stories and women's voices, and the Herstory Theatre is celebrating that.

"Marie and Rosetta" at Park Square Theatre

For two nights in a row, I experienced rousing gospel music as part of #TCTheater. In other words, was a good week. The night after seeing Penumbra Theatre's annual gospel rendition of the nativity story Black Nativity, I attended opening night of Park Square Theatre's regional premiere of the new play Marie and Rosetta, the true story of lesser known gospel legend Sister Rosetta Tharpe. Written by Playwrights' Center affiliated writer George Brant, Marie and Rosetta imagines the night of the first performance of Rosetta and her protege/duet partner Marie Knight. A night in 1946 Mississippi when there was no room at the inn for two black women singers, so they rehearsed and slept in a funeral home with a kindly owner. This play with music paints a beautiful picture of these two very different women, their music, and their relationship, as well as the hardships both faced in their lives and careers, and brings these two musical legends to vivid life. A "joyful noise" indeed.

"Two Mile Hollow" by Theater Mu and Mixed Blood Theatre

My 280-character (or less) review of Theater Mu and Mixed Blood Theatre's first ever collaboration:

Friends, run don't walk to see #twomilehollow (co-production from @theatermu and @mixed_blood). I can't decide whom I love most in this cast of comic geniuses! But behind all the wackiness and humor is some seriously smart commentary on race and class in America.

"The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time" at Mixed Blood Theatre

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time racked up awards in both London and NYC, including winning the Tony Award for best play in 2015. Just last year the Broadway tour stopped in Minneapolis, which I saw and was impressed by the clever and inventive storytelling. Now available for regional productions, Mixed Blood Theatre is bringing us their take on the play. The West End/Broadway production was very tech-heavy, and I was curious what this story with a smaller-scale production and in a smaller house would look like. It turns out I like it even better, but I generally always like smaller cast, smaller scale, smaller house versions of plays and musicals which make the story feel more intimate and real. In this case, the 15-person Broadway cast has been reduced to just 9, with very smart casting and direction by Mixed Blood's Artistic Director Jack Reuler. There are still some pretty impressive tech effects, but also some great low-tech effects that all serve this story of a 15-year-old boy with an unspecified autism-like condition who goes on an epic journey in search of the truth. And it still has a real live puppy and real live maths!

"How to Use a Knife" at Mixed Blood Theatre

About their newest production, Mixed Blood's Artistic Director Jack Reuler notes, "How to Use a Knife is definitive Mixed Blood: hilarious until it's not, propelled by catalytic cultural collisions, simultaneously political and theatrical, timely in America and in our own Cedar Riverside neighborhood, multi-lingual, and 90 intermissionless minutes." If you think this sounds like a recipe for a delectable and satisfying theater meal, you are absolutely correct. Will Snider's new play is a tragicomedy that takes place in a restaurant kitchen with diverse, clearly drawn, realistic characters, brilliantly brought to life by a fantastic cast, with a completely engrossing story that'll leave you wondering just who the bad guy is in this story, and maybe realizing that defining a "bad guy" isn't all that simple.

"Amy's View" at Park Square Theatre

Shortly after Mother's Day, Park Square Theatre brings us a mother/daughter story that is just one of the "complicated relationships" (the name of the signature drink accompanying this show) in Amy's View. Theater, criticism, art, finances, and messy relationships of all sorts are exposed in this play that spans 15 years. The play perhaps tries to cover too much, in time and topics, but the excellent cast and design make it worth the ride.

"Orange" at Mixed Blood Theatre

Being 17 is hard enough, but for a young woman on the Autism spectrum raised in India and returning to the strange land of her birth - Orange County, California - it's even more challenging. Mixed Blood Theatre's Playwright in Residence Aditi Brennan Kapil premieres her 7th new work there, the funny, poignant, imaginative story of the unusual but perfect Leela in Orange. In just 90 minutes with no intermission (a morning person's dream), the excellent three-person cast takes us on Leela's one-night adventure and, aided by a really cool set, makes us feel like we're right there with her as she begins to grow up and gain her independence.

"Sons of the Prophet" at Park Square Theatre

"You are far greater than you know, and all is well." In the 2012 Pulitzer Prize finalist Sons of the Prophet, the members of the Lebanese-American Douaihy family cling to this quote from their distant relation Khalil Gibran like a lifeline in the midst of their suffering. The also idolize the Lebanese Saint Rafqa, a 19th Century nun who prayed for suffering so she could feel closer to God. Being raised Catholic, I'm familiar with the idea of suffering as virtue, and I don't buy it. Suffering is not something to be sought after, it doesn't make us more pious. But let's face it, suffering is a part of life. We all suffer in different immeasurable ways. The suffering itself is not a virtue, rather it's how we're able to get through it and who we are on the other side that matters. The Douaihy brothers endure their suffering with humor and compassion in this play full of quirkily endearing characters that ends with no resolution, only a promise of more suffering, and more life.

"You for Me for You" by Mu Performing Arts at the Guthrie

You for Me for You. Judging by the title I wondered if this was a play about former American Idol judge Randy Jackson. But of course it's not, rather this regional premiere by Mu Performing Arts is about North Korea, a subject I (and most Americans) know less about than American Idol. I was fortunate enough to attend the play when there was a post-show discussion with the playwright Mia Chung and director Randy Reyes, facilitated by the Star Tribune's Rohan Preston (read his review here). Hearing from the playwright, the director, and the cast about their experiences creating this piece gave me greater insight into the story. Mia shared that because there is so little known about what North Korea is actually like, she felt freedom in creating this world through "magic realism" and really tried to focus on the human aspect of the story. She succeeds beautifully, as I was completely engrossed in the lives of these characters as brought to life by Mu's strong cast (the first to feature Korean actors in the three lead roles). This specific story of North Korean refugees is also universal in its themes of family, love, and sacrifice, themes that will feel familiar to any audience.

"The Arsonists" by Frank Theatre at the Ritz Theater

"That was a strange one." This comment overheard as I was leaving the Ritz Theater last night pretty well sums up Frank Theatre's latest venture The Arsonists. It's weird, even for Frank. I typically love Frank's brand of weird; their work is always challenging and thought-provoking and usually delightfully bizarre. But this one was a little too out there for me, although I can appreciate the artistry of what director Wendy Knox and her team have created. And after sleeping on it and reading about the play, I have an even better appreciation for it. If you can hold on for the ride, this absurdist play has some funny and thought-provoking moments. But it is most definitely a strange one.

"Bright Half Life" at Pillsbury House Theatre

As we approach February 14, it seems that several theaters are presenting shows with a theme of love and relationships (including a dating musical at Illusion and a marriage musical by Bucket Brigade). Pillsbury House Theatre's entry into this theme is Bright Half Life. This story of love, marriage, and children between two women spans over 40 years and is told in a non-linear fashion. In a short and sweet 75 minutes we watch these women progress through all stages of a relationship in a play that's poignant, engaging, and entertaining.

"The Jungle Book" at Children's Theatre Company

Confession: I've never read The Jungle Book (the collection of stories written by Rudyard Kipling in 1894) or seen the 1967 Disney movie (that I can remember). So I was on the fence about seeing Children's Theatre Company's new adaptation, until I saw the cast list (more on them later). They're about a month into their two and a half month run, and I'm so glad I decided to see the show. This coming of age story that just happens to take place in a jungle is a wonderful tale of friendship, family, community, interdependence with nature, and finally having the courage to strike out on your own. With a sparse adaptation featuring just five actors playing all of the characters (most of them animals), whimsical musical accompaniment and sound effects, and a set that's like the best playground imaginable, The Jungle Book is sheer delight from start to finish.

Even if you, like me, have never read the book or seen the movie, you probably know the story. A young human child is raised by wolves in the jungle, who call him Mowgli. As he gets older, the bear Baloo and the panther Bagheera take him under their wings, er... paws. Mowgli learns to commune with the animals of the jungle, but soon finds out that not all of them are his friends. He has the usual growing pains of any human child, but eventually comes to appreciate his animal family and all they've done for him (there's hope, parents!). Because of their love and guidance, he's able to go off on his own into the human world and find his place in the world.

The delights of this adaptation by Greg Banks, who also directs are many, and include:

• Eric Sharp joyously inhabits the character of Mowgli from the playful non-verbal child, to the rebellious kid wanting to play with his friends, to the young man who is ready to set out on his own, but grateful to his animal family.
• The other four actors play three to four animal characters each, and completely physically transform into each one. Highlights include H. Adam Harris' lovable Baloo that any child would want as a friend, Casey Hoekstra's deliciously menacing tiger, Autumn Ness' stern but maternal prowling panther, Nastacia Nicole's smooth and seductive snake, and all of them as the playful and mischievous monkeys.
• Unlike the Disney movie, this is not a musical, but there is music and sound. Victor Zupanc plays multiple instruments including percussion, accordion, and various whistles and noisemakers, which provides a lovely soundtrack to the story.
• Joseph Stanley's set is a playground any kid (or adult) would love to play on, with multiple levels, stairs, ladders, swings, and platforms high off the ground. It provides endless possibilities for exits, entrances, and interactions, and the cast is all over it.
• The costumes (by Alison Siple) are subtly representative of the animals the actors are portraying. There are no full fuzzy stuffed animal type of costumes. Rather the actors are dressed in fairly normal people clothes with accessories that hint at the animal - a gray furry hood for the wolves, a brown fuzzy coat for the bear, a colorful mane and bungee cord tail for the monkeys, and beautiful long silk scarf for the snake. Simple but creative and effective, and most importantly, easy to change as these actors get their workout transforming from one animal to the next.
• The message of "we're of the same blood" is so beautiful and moving, and perhaps even more important to remember today than it was 100 years ago. We're all part of the jungle that is earth, and The Jungle Book reminds us of that.

This Jungle Book is so fun and playful, with a beautiful message about a family that's not related by blood (or even of the same species) and a connection with nature. Whether you're a child or an adult, a fan of the story or unfamiliar with it, it's impossible not to love it. (Continuing through December 20 in CTC's ground level Cargill Stage).

Mowgli and the monkeys (H. Adam Harris, Casey Hoekstra,
Eric Sharp, Autumn Ness, Nastacia Nicole, photo by Dan Norman)

This article also appears on Broadway World Minneapolis.

"Prep" at Pillsbury House Theatre

It's been quite a week. Both in the real world, with yet another tragic mass shooting at a school, and in my theater world (which sometimes feels more real to me than the real world does). I started my week in theater with the Guthrie's beautiful production of the American classic To Kill A Mockingbird, about the wrongful conviction of a black man in 1930s Alabama. I followed that up with Roger Guenveur Smith's virtuoso performance in the one-man-show he created about Rodney King, whose brutal beating by LAPD officers in the early '90s led to one of the most deadly riots in our nation's history. While both of these events take place in the past, and one is fictional, there are striking parallels to the events of today that led to the Black Lives Matter movement. So it was with a heavy heart at the state of the world that I showed up at Pillsbury House Theatre last night. Having seen Tracey Scott Wilson's Buzzer twice, I knew that her new play Prep, commissioned by Pillsbury House and written after "extensive interviews with students, parents, and residents regarding racial tension in Minneapolis," would not be easy. But I was pleased that after this week of violence and injustice in the real and theater world, this one left me with a bit of hope. Yes there's plenty of work to do, but maybe, through the kindness and attention of individual to individual, we can all get along.

Prep actually reminds me more of The Gospel of Lovingkindness, seen at Pillsbury House earlier this year, than Buzzer, in that the three characters mostly speak to the audience in monologues (often responding to recorded voices), rather than speak to each other. Even when two of them are in a scene together, they often speak to the audience about each other. This device really lets us get inside each character's head to know what they're thinking and feeling. The first character we meet is "Miss" (Jodi Kellogg), the principal of an underprivileged school in an unnamed city, who sends her children to Ivy-league-like school a few miles away. But she genuinely cares for her students and wants them to succeed. She's taken a special interest in Chris (Kory LaQuess Pullam), a good student who is struggling after the recent death of his friend in a drive-by shooting. He has some disturbing ideas about how to make a statement and spur change in the community. He tells his friend Oliver (Ryan Colbert) about it, which angers him and causes a fight, leading to events that change the three and the school for good. But not in the way that you think.

Ryan Colbert, Kory LaQuess Pullam, and Jodi Kellogg

Tracey Scott Wilson has written the play with a rhythm and rhyming scheme that makes one think of Shakespeare. These three actors are all wonderful at speaking her words lyrically, yet still making them sound like natural speech. Joseph Stanley's sparse set with chain-link fence on the back wall and two raised platforms creates a simple and colorless backdrop for the story. Director Noël Raymond guides her actors well through the rhythm of the words and the story, and lets each establish their character in their own space on the stage, until they start intermingling in space as their storylines connect.

In just over an hour, Pillsbury House Theatre's Prep tackles some heavy themes of racism and violence in a realistic yet poetic way. It doesn't offer solutions so much as a ray of hope and a way to think and talk about the issues. Playing now through October 18.

"The Language Archive" at Park Square Theatre

The language of Esperanto is a universal language that was invented in the late 19th Century as a way to heal the divides that speaking different languages can cause. A beautiful idea, isn't it? In a nutshell, this is what Julia Cho's lovely play The Language Archive is all about. It's about the different languages that we all speak, not just the actual language, but also the more intimate informal languages that we develop in relationships with the different people in our lives. Even though the characters in the play all speak English, they struggle to communicate with each other on a deeper level, sometimes succeeding, sometimes failing, as we all do. This play had me laughing through my tears as I contemplated life and relationships. Friends, it doesn't get much better than that.

George is a linguist who is obsessed with studying and recording endangered languages. Ironically, he is unable to communicate with his wife, Mary, who is unhappy and decides to leave him. So George goes to his work, at a place called The Language Archive, where he records rare languages before they disappear. Along with his assistant Emma (who is, of course, in love with him), his current task is to record the (fictional) language of Ellowa as spoken by a couple that he has flown in from a remote village somewhere in the world. But on this particular day, the couple is fighting and doesn't want to speak their precious language in anger. George struggles with how to accomplish this task while his world is falling apart, Emma struggles with how to tell George how she feels, and Mary struggles with finding a happier life. Watching them do so is a bittersweet joy.

Mary and George (Sara Ochs and Kurt Kwan,
photo by Petronella J. Ytsma)

Rick Shiomi, recently retired founder and Artistic Director of Mu Performing Arts, directs this wonderful seven-person cast. As the wounded linguist, Kurt Kwan gives a sensitive, heart-breaking, funny, and very real performance. Sara Ochs is sympathetic as the wife who doesn't quite understand him and wants something of her own. Emily A. Grodzik plays the eager young assistant (like a Season 1 Peggy Olson) with a simple open spirit hiding deeper feelings. Claudia Wilkens and Richard Ooms are perfection as the Ellowa speakers, extremely believable as the bickering yet loving couple (perhaps because they are married in real life). Rounding out the cast are Melanie Wehrmacher and Robert Gardner, bringing depth and interest to several smaller roles.

Joseph Stanley's remarkable set fills the stage with huge shelves upon which books, typewriters, files, tapes, and other objects associated with words are stacked. Words in many different languages adorn the walls, and the center section rotates to reveal the recording room. Shrouded stage hands quietly move set pieces on and off stage during scene transitions, which are many but fluidly handled.

The Language Archive is one of those rare plays that satisfies on so many levels. It's smartly written, funny, a bit fantastical but very grounded in reality, superbly acted, features a huge and fascinating set, and most importantly, touches the heart as well as the mind and the funny bone. I'm catching this one near the end of its run, but if you can make it to one of the four remaining performances on Park Square Theatre's main stage, it will be well worth your time and effort.

"Pussy Valley" at Mixed Blood Theatre

You know a play titled Pussy Valley is going to be on the edge, not your typical evening at the theater. And boy does it deliver! Mixed Blood Theatre's world premiere of the new play by Katori Hall (whose work was last seen last year on the Guthrie Proscenium Stage - the beautiful and imaginative The Mountaintop) is a raw and edgy look at the life of pole dancers in the Deep South. The playwright digs deep into this very specific world to find universal human truths. The result is funny, sexy, heart-breaking, and devastating, and yes, features some pretty awesome pole-dancing.

At the Pink Pony, we meet four very different women, whose life experiences have brought them to the pole for different reasons. There's tough Mercedes (an amazingly fit and fierce Jasmine Hughes), who uses her earnings to support her preacher father's church; fourth-generation pole dancer Get 'Em Gidget (the graceful Megan Rippey), who longs for somewhere that's green; mother of three Miss Mississippi (a vulnerable Joetta Wright), who hopes to escape her abusive boyfriend for the bright lights of L.A.; and mysterious newcomer Autumn Night (an enigmatic Tatiana Williams). Autumn's story is never fully revealed; she says that she's "all of the above," but maybe she represents anyone who's one step away from doing something desperate, daring, and dangerous, for a multitude of reasons. Presiding over the club like a cross between a mother hen and a warden is the cross-dressing Uncle Clifford, with an outstanding performance by Nicco Annan that is both hilariously entertaining and heart-breakingly vulnerable. They're supported by a wonderful cast of men (including James Craven as the preacher, Dustin Bronson in a Jekyll/Hyde performance as both Gidget's sweet boyfriend and Mississippi's horribly abusive boyfriend, and Ansa Akyea as the club bouncer and Mississippi's wealthy suitor), but this is really the women's story.

Get 'Em Gidget, Mercedes, and Miss Mississippi
(Megan Rippey, Jasmine Hughes,
and Joetta Wright, photo by Rich Ryan)

Each of the four women goes through her own personal journey over the course of the show, some for the better, some not so much. They each have a sort of dreamlike moment on the pole in which they express its deeper meaning in their life, in a weird way sort of like A Chorus Line (which just celebrated its 40th anniversary), only with pole dancers instead of chorus dancers. What it comes down to is that they're working towards a better life, for themselves, their children, their family, and pole dancing is the way that they've found to do that. Only they're never quite able to break out of it. On the one hand they're exploited and abused by the men around them, but on the other they own their power and take great pride in the artistry of the pole.

Speaking of artistry, the actors trained for a year to get in pole dancing shape,* and it's quite amazing what they've accomplished in that time. They're as strong, athletic, and graceful as professional pole dancers. OK I've never actually seen professional pole dancers, but I'm certain these women measure up! They physically and emotionally bring these complex and varied women to life.

Set designer Joseph Stanley has created the Pink Pony onstage with poles, a bar, and red velvet curtains. Although I'm surprised that the black box theater is set up as a traditional proscenium, especially after Colossal's brilliantly recreated football stadium. It would have been interesting to see a thrust set-up or something more intimate and club-like. Trevor Bowen's costume design brings authenticity to this world, and manages to create a specific personality for each of the women out of costumes that are in some cases just a swatch of spandex. Those of you sensitive to strobe lights, take note that there is ample use of them in this show, which creates some cool effects, but was a bit too much for my system to handle. I also had a hard time understanding some of the characters' accents, it's a very specific dialect, but fortunately Mixed Blood always has surtitles in their shows as yet another manifestation of their commitment to diversity of all kinds, including hearing ability.

Despite the salacious title and the presence of mostly naked women dancing on poles, Pussy Valley is a complex, deep, emotional story. I'm not sure it needs to be three hours long (I'm not sure any entertainment needs to be three hours long, other than Shakespeare and Sondheim and Lord of the Rings movies). There are a few scenes that could be trimmed or cut to make the story more compact, but it's an epic story. One that's difficult to watch at times because of the emotional and physical violence portrayed, but one that is compelling and engaging and hits you right in the gut. Playing now through May 20 - reserve tickets online for $20, or take your chances and show up within two hours before the show for free tickets as part of Mixed Blood's "Radical Hospitality" program.



*I predict a surge in pole dance classes in the next few weeks, check out Knockout Bodies in NE Minneapolis as an example.

"Hir" at Mixed Blood Theatre

The English language is in need of a gender-neutral pronoun. Firstly to eliminate the awkward "he or she" and "his or her," but also to refer to people who don't identify with either, or in cases where gender really doesn't matter (which is most cases). I recall reading the suggestion "per" in a Marge Piercy novel years ago. The title of the new play Hir (pronounced here) is playwright Taylor Mac's suggestion for an alternative to her and him, with ze replacing he and she. But to say that Hir is about transgender and gender issues is to simplify it too much. In fact, it's difficult to put into words just what it's about, but I'll do my best. It's epic and brutal and funny and heart-breaking as it explores ideas of not just gender, but also class, domestic violence, the changing order of things, and the effects of war on soldiers and those left behind. It's one of those plays that will rip you open, lay your emotions bare, and perhaps leave you with a bit of a queasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. But this beautifully done, perfectly cast production at Mixed Blood Theatre, known for its challenging and rewarding work, is well worth it.

Hir is about a typical American family - mother, father, son, daughter. But as soon as the curtain opens on the cluttered and messy house, revealing barely-there dad Arnold (John Paul Gamoke) in clown make-up, loony mom Paige (Sally Wingert), daughter Max (Jay Eisenberg) who identifies as a boy, and son Isaac (Dustin Bronson) returning from three years at war serving in the Mortuary Affairs department, it's obvious this family is anything but typical. Dysfunctional doesn't even begin to cover it; this is a family steeped in violence, cruelty, and destruction. But they're still here, together, trying to make sense of the new order of things in the "starter home" they never left. Isaac returns from war to find things have changed greatly in the last three years - Arnold has had a stroke, Max is a he, or ze, and Paige has discovered a newfound freedom after being released from years of violence and oppression at the hand of her husband, and being inspired by her child's determination to move beyond confined gender roles. She has freed herself from all conventions of traditional society, even the conventions of folding laundry and putting dishes away in cupboards, because in her mind, it's all part of the oppressive life she left behind. Isaac is shocked and disturbed by this new non-order, and by the humiliating way his mother treats his stroke-addled father. He cleans up the house and tries to help his father remember who he is. Paige is incensed by the cleanliness and the "normative kitchen table in the kitchen," seeing it as a move back to Arnold's controlling way. She tells Isaac that because of the violence and cruelty of his pre-stroke life, he does not deserve compassion. But is that true? Doesn't everyone deserve compassion? Perhaps, but perhaps it's too much to ask for from the person he hurt most.

Isaac, Paige, Arnold, and Max (Dustin Bronson, Sally Wingert,
John Paul Gamoke, and Jay Eisenberg, photo by Rich Ryan)

Each one of these characters is flawed, courageous, and despicable at times, and at all times real. I found myself changing allegiances many times during the play; I'd empathize with someone in one moment, and intensely dislike them in the next. The person Arnold used to be, and his small movements back there, are truly horrifying, but he's also a lost, sick, damaged man. Max is an infuriatingly bratty teenager, yet hir determination to be who ze really is, despite the conventions of society, is truly inspirational. Isaac, like many returning vets, is forever affected by what he's experienced in the war, and more than anything wants to return to the home he knew, but when he starts to take the place of his father by controlling his mother and her house, it's unacceptable. Lastly, Paige is a fascinating, wacky, and compelling character. It's difficult to watch the way that she treats Arnold, but it's understandable considering their history. And it's obvious that she loves and supports her children, and has done the best for them in a difficult situation. Inspired by Max, she says some really lovely things about moving beyond a world of two distinct strictly defined genders to a world where we can all just be who we are.

These complex characters are brought to vivid life by this beautiful cast, all of whom give such raw, vulnerable, truthful, and at times painful performances. NYC director Niegel Smith brings out the best in each of them and somehow makes sense out of this mess of a family and home. And speaking of mess, kudos to Properties Designer Abbee Warmboe for filling Joseph Stanley's dingy house set with so much clutter in the form of clothes, garbage, dishes, and who knows what else, that I wanted to jump on stage and start cleaning it myself!

One other thing to note: I find it interesting that in a play named after a new pronoun, Isaac is often called I, the first person pronoun. I don't know what that means, but it can't be a coincidence, can it?

Mixed Blood Theatre never fails to challenge, inspire, entertain, and make you think. Hir is no exception. It's not an easy play to watch at times, but it's well worth the effort. If you like your theater risky, challenging, and thought-provoking, head to Mixed Blood between now and March 22. Take advantage of their Radical Hospitality program - just show up and get tickets for free if they're available - or reserve tickets in advance for $20 online or by phone.


This article also appears on Broadway World Minneapolis.

"Grounded" by Frank Theatre at the Playwrights' Center

Drones are everywhere. The increased use of unmanned aerial vehicles in war is all over the news, and is even the focus of this season of Homeland. But you never think about the person behind the drone, the one who's flying it remotely and pushing the button to make the hit on the target, to sometimes devastating effect. Frank Theatre's Grounded does just that. A fighter pilot who has been grounded is reassigned to fly military drones from half a world away. In this one-woman show starring the always excellent Shá Cage, we watch this pilot adjust to her new job, new family, new schedule, until the effects take their tole and she's no longer as grounded as she appears.

The unnamed main character is the epitome of a tough fighter pilot, loving nothing more than being up in "the blue" and fighting for her country. She's forced to give that up, at least temporarily, when she falls in love and gets pregnant. After a few years at a desk job she longs to return to the blue; even though she loves her husband and daughter, it's not enough. She reports for duty and is told she'll be remotely flying drones rather than going up in planes, and is assigned to a base outside of Las Vegas. She initially thinks she's being punished, but is eventually convinced that drones are where it's at. She moves with her family into a house in the suburbs and begins her daily 12-hour shift of flying drones, returning home to her family at night. War as a 9 to 5 job may sound nice, fight the bad guys during the day and then go home to your family, but this pilot learns that it's not as easy as it sounds. It becomes increasingly difficult for her to separate her day job of killing "military age males" from her home and family life in the suburbs. Instead of transitioning out of war mentality once a year on leave, she has to do it every day, and soon the lines begin to blur, to the detriment of both her work and home life.

Shá Cage as the grounded pilot
(photo by Tony Nelson)

Before the show, Sousa marches get the audience into the military mood. About five minutes before the show starts Shá Cage walks out and stands at attention, her arm in salute (you try holding your arm in salute and see how quickly your arm fatigues!). Shá is an excellent choice for this role. She's strong enough to command the stage and play this strong woman, but also convey her vulnerable side with her family, as well as the cracks that begin to appear as she struggles with the transition between the two. I attended a preview, so Shá had her script in hand, flipping pages and occasionally glancing down at it to orient herself in the 90 minute one-woman show. But this did nothing to take away from her fully realized and emotional performance. And she's only going to get better over the course of the run as the script is let go. Her performance is allowed to shine in the simplicity of the design; the stage is bare except for a chair and bench, with only subtle changes in lighting to set the tone (set by Joseph Stanley, lighting by Mike Kittel).

Grounded is a fascinating look at the sacrifices made by and challenges facing those who work in the military, at home and abroad, as well as more generally the challenges of being a working mother. It also touches on the idea that everything we do is being watched. An idea which, if not totally true, seems to be where the world is moving, which is a disturbing thought. Grounded continues at the Playwrights' Center through November 23.