The Great Leap Reaches for the Stars

I've always loved historical fiction, but it can be a tricky thing to get right. 

Photo by Dan Norman

Where is the line between taking a fictional account of history too far and hitting just the right balance? Done well, historical fiction can provide an exciting, accessible way to engage with past events that might otherwise seem dull and boring. Done sloppily, the genre can irresponsibly give audiences a misconception of what happened and an incorrect basis on which to place their knowledge of history. Even small errors can vastly change the course of a person's context for the world (for example, someone who doesn't know about the three fifths compromise in the U.S. Constitution will have a hard time grasping the full reality of racism in the American legal justice system), which has direct consequences when it comes time to vote or make policy.

Photo by Dan Norman

That's why I appreciate creative, responsible historical fiction so much - I believe it its power and have seen the near-instantaneous changes it can inspire when it's done right (I mean, helloooo Hamilton). The Great Leap, now showing at the Guthrie Theater, is just such a show. It weaves two historical occurrences - basketball games played between U.S. and Chinese college teams in the 1980s and the Tiananmen Square protests of 1989 - to help audiences understand what was at stake in the roiling change China experienced in the late 1980s. It's a masterful piece of writing that could easily convince an audience that it's true, and the seemingly incongruous themes of communism vs. capitalism and a broken family history told in the sports arena are seamlessly woven together into a single compelling package. It's the first mainstream Guthrie production I've seen centering Asian American stories (past productions have been hosted in the Level 9 theater featuring visiting companies like Mu Performing Arts - which is great but not the same), an overdue treatment and one that I hope we see a lot more of in the future.

Photo by Dan Norman

The Great Leap follows Manford, a bombastic, gifted high school basketball player, as he tries to join the University of San Francisco basketball team to play a traveling game in Beijing in June 1989. Coach Saul (who leads the UCSF team) is a profane, washed up figure who needs an athletic anchor to save face in his last shot at remaining a coach. Manford talks Saul into letting him play without revealing that he has significant personal reasons to go on the trip, a fact that severely complicates the game once the team arrives in China. When Manford's good friend Connie learns of his plans, she reluctantly helps him go but only after helping set up security measures should something go wrong on the trip - which it does. Wen Chang, the Beijing coach, patiently lies in wait for the American team once it arrives and is ready to beat them at their own game - but the dynamic forces at play in Beijing in 1989 prove too much for him to overcome as the tumult of Tianenmen Square and the pressures of foreign media explode by the end of the show.

Photo by Dan Norman

This full, richly nuanced story would seem to require a large cast, and yet it is pulled off with a tight-knit crew of four actors. Manford is played with vitality by Lawrence Kao, with an athleticism and bright energy that shines throughout the show. His positivity is balanced by Lee Sellars, memorably playing the dour and intensely coarse Saul; and Kurt Kwan, who brings stoic gravitas and a deep complexity to his role as Wen Chang. Leah Anderson infuses her role as Connie with savvy modernity, and despite limited stage time she leaves a deep impression. This cast has an excellent chemistry, and it's clear that director Desdemona Chiang and assistant director Sun Mee Chomet had a precise vision that is flawlessly executed throughout the cast.

Photo by Dan Norman

The production design is elegantly spare and gorgeous, one of my favorites I've seen in a while. The stage is covered in a retractable scrim panel with a basketball court's lines, which is used to great advantage with shadows, strategic lighting, and some fabulous black and white pictures from Beijing 1989. The projections and photos (masterfully assembled by projection designer Tom Mays) add so much depth to the story and were one of my favorite elements in The Great Leap. The rest of the set design by Sara Ryung Clement is clean and efficient, and I was impressed at the physicality it allowed the cast. The costumes by Helen Huang hit the 1980s to a T, and it was fun to throw back to some of the dated styles we no longer see on street corners. Paul Whitaker's lighting design and Sarah Pickett's sound design are efficient and seamless, and combined with the rest of the production design we get a full-fledged image of The Great Leap's stories with what otherwise would seem very few elements.

Photo by Dan Norman

I'm not much of a basketball fan, but like the better adaptations of sports stories for screen or stage (Remember the Titans or Miracle come to mind) I found myself fully engaged and immersed in The Great Leap from the first minute the scrim screens drew. It's a tautly written piece and provides so much context about events I know embarrassingly little about; the context surrounding the Tiananmen Square massacre was particularly mind expanding. Through Manford's journey we are able to engage with that hidden history with a complexity and empathy that we do not normally afford to stories about communist countries, particularly as Americans. I thoroughly enjoyed The Great Leap and would recommend it to audiences of any stripe; it's suspenseful, inspiring, heartbreaking and nuanced at a level that you don't always get to see. I'm always a seeker of good writing in any form I can find it, and Lauren Yee's script here is not to be missed. Make sure to click here to get your tickets or more information about the show before it closes on February 10; you'll definitely want to see this one. 

Photo by Dan Norman