Penumbra's The White Card is a Must See

White people especially need to prioritize attending this gripping drama depicting the devastation caused by microaggressions

Photo courtesy of the Penumbra

It doesn't happen too often, but once in a while I witness a piece of theater that directly reflects some of my experiences and I visibly cringe.

The White Card, now showing at the Penumbra Theatre, is just such a show - and man, did I cringe HARD. Authored by the magnificently talented author Claudia Rankine (if you haven't yet read Citizen, her unmissable treatise on police brutality published by Minneapolis-based Graywolf Press - RUN, don't walk to get it), The White Card peels back the layers of privilege, ignorance and internalized racism that runs throughout the black-white dynamic in America today into an uncomfortable exposé of what is wrong with simply resting on good intentions and armchair activism.

Photo courtesy of the Penumbra

The entire play takes place in the stylish living room of a very wealthy couple, Charles and Virginia, who are famous art collectors. Their art dealer Eric connects them with a young black female artist and rising star, Charlotte, as she completes an eagerly awaited new photography collection. Upon arrival, Charlotte uneasily contemplates the couple's inimitable private art collection, most of which features daring, expensive, rare work by black artists exposing violence they experienced in American society. She reveals that her coming work is a look into the unseen devastation of the Charleston church shooting, instantly exciting the eager collectors.

Charles and Virginia's liberal activist son Alex crashes the dinner party halfway through, essentially dropping a lit Molotov cocktail into an already tense emotional environment. Many unsavory details about the source of Charles' wealth and Virginia's understanding of life outside of her white bubble are revealed in explosive fights, causing Charlotte to experience her own identity crisis. Who is her art really for? Does intention negate impact? By making black suffering the focus of her work, has she fetishized it into something unrecognizable and inhuman? The play closes on a reveal of Charlotte's next project, which is takes a completely different approach to the problem she initially set out to solve.

Photo courtesy of the Penumbra

This cast is tight, and bravo for their steadfast portrayals of nefarious characters who can't have been pleasant to portray. Bill McCallum brings layers to the role of Charles, and I think he's the character who will singlehandedly feel the most familiar to audiences. Michelle O'Neill is viciously brilliant as Virginia, with a whiplash delivery that had several audience members appearing visibly struck. Jay Owen Eisenberg is the perfect choice for Alex, shining a mirror on all well-intentioned activists. John Catron snugly wears the social climbing Eric's role, truly defining the rationale against the #notallmen movement through his performance. And Lynnette R. Freeman brings heartbreak and hope to her role of Charlotte; she is a strong, new-to-me anchor in the storm of this show, the blazing arrow pointing out the effects of microaggression to all of us. It's a brilliant cohort, and I appreciate the hard work they put in on a tough script.

Tavin Wilks brings a searingly clear vision to his role as director, and it's thanks to his straightforward vision that the layers of The White Card can unfold. Chelsea M. Warren's gleaming, chic scenic design looks plucked straight out of a Vogue spread, and it's an appropriately blank canvas for the gruesome dialogue to unfold within. Marcus Dilliard's clean lighting design makes the most of Warren's bright staging, as do Kathy Maxwell's impactful projection designs. Mathew LeFebvre's costume design is equally stylish, luxe and comfortable; once again I coveted several of the pieces he chose. And special note to Abbee Warmboe's carefully selected properties design, the well-intentioned elements of which provide critical context to The White Card's overall undertones.

Photo courtesy of the Penumbra

There are several reasons The White Card feels like a surprising choice for an African American-focused theater to produce during Black History Month, chief among them that all but one of the cast members is white. I think, however, that therein lies the brilliance of the plot overall. What does blackness, especially the experience of being black in America, really mean without whiteness? You can't have one without the other. We should all be familiar by now with the endlessly violent suffering and trauma porn of the African American experience that is splayed across television and social media feeds daily. But at which hands does that suffering occur? Where is the root of that adversity? Why don't we ever seem to see that part, unless it's the end of a police officer's gun (notoriously rarely showing a face)?

Maybe because, as The White Card brilliantly depicts, modern racism takes more subtly insidious forms than that which we've been trained to identify. A burning cross, white hood or lynch knot are rare to see these days. But when talking about people of color, do you ever notice yourself utilizing a language of "us vs. them"? As a white person, are the only times you engage with black people when they are serving you (whether as actual maids or hired help, or as janitors or servers or baristas)? Do you purposely, meaningfully seek out stories about black people that are positive, violence-free and hopeful - or is the extent of your engagement with news stories highlighting poverty, drugs and violence? Do you call out the color of skin or texture of hair on a black person while never mentioning it with your non-black compatriots, especially when in mixed company? Have you ever said or heard any of the things on this list?

Photo courtesy of the Penumbra

The trouble is, not everything I just listed can seem like an offense, and to be clear: I don't mean this review to become a preachy treatise. I raise my hand here as a transgressor in many of these ways; I constantly seek to un-learn the internalized language, habits and thought processes that inflict such microaggressions on my fellow citizens of color. The endless amount of irony of sitting as a white reviewer in an almost all white audience that was audibly gasping throughout The White Card only to drive back to our cozy safe homes and punch out a bunch of preachy messages about race on social media was not lost on me for a second.

And that discomfort I experienced, the mental dissonance, is the reason why The White Card is a must see for white audiences for me. In the hundreds of plays I have seen over the years, almost always with audiences who are overwhelmingly white, it is exceedingly rare that I have seen a play so effectively turn the gaze back upon us. How did we get here? What layers of privilege have allowed us access to the arts? What are we doing - actually, actively doing - to solve the problems we proclaim to identify with so severely? Like Charles and Virginia and Alex, are we really just indulging in trauma porn, or are we meaningfully making the world more equitable? I touched on some of these thoughts in my review of West Side Story a couple years ago, but they remain as (if not more) relevant than ever.

Photo courtesy of the Penumbra

So in honor of the enduring strength and perseverance of the black community and the sea of work that still needs to be accomplished among my own white-skinned compatriots, please, please go watch The White Card. Non-white audiences will find a lot to like here as well I'm sure - the performances are excellent, the set is beautiful, and I'm sure a lot of the subject matter will feel at least tangentially familiar - but those of us who are privileged enough to see a lot of theater and have discretionary income for the arts owe it to society to turn unflinchingly towards that which will make us better, even (perhaps especially) if it makes us intensely uncomfortable first. Claudia Rankine's intimately detailed The White Card is just such a work. Click here for more information or to buy tickets before The White Card closes on March 8. I leave you with these words from Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s Letter From a Birmingham Jail:

"First, I must confess that over the last few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro's great stumbling block in the stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen's Council-er or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate who is more devoted to "order" than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says "I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I can't agree with your methods of direct action;" who paternalistically feels he can set the timetable for another man's freedom; who lives by the myth of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait until a "more convenient season."

Shallow understanding from people of goodwill is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection."

The Jungle's Miss Bennet is Holiday Perfection

It is a truth universally acknowledged... 

Photo by Dan Norman

That holiday season stagings need a refresh.

Don't get me wrong; I will always harbor love for How the Grinch Stole Christmas or A Christmas Carol. That said, do we need to see them *every* year? Done exactly the same way? What about trying some new stories?

Photo by Dan Norman

That's why I'm so thrilled with the new tradition gracing the Jungle Theater's stage: a rotation of holiday themed, fan-fiction sequels to Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. Last year I had the great pleasure of attending The Wickhams, a rip-roaringly funny play about the servants at Pemberley while the lords and ladies of the house celebrate upstairs. It was one of my favorite plays of the entire year, in fact, and I can't wait for them to bring it back.

Photo by Dan Norman

This year I got to check out the original adaption that I missed two years ago. Miss Bennet takes place a couple of years before The Wickhams, except it is upstairs in the main house and stars all the main characters of the beloved novel. Fan fiction can get dicey; it's hard to recreate the author's signature style without veering into wildly fantastic side stories or awkwardly stilted dialogues. Thankfully playwrights Lauren Gunderson and Margot Melcon do a masterful job of channeling Austen's voice into a believable, relevant new script that I think is destined to stick around for quite some time.

Photo by Dan Norman

Miss Bennet takes place over Christmas two years after the end of Pride and Prejudice. Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy are happily married and hosting the rest of the Bennet family over the holidays. First to arrive are Elizabeth's elder sister Jane, who is heavily pregnant; her husband Mr. Bingley; and their sister Mary Bennet (the titular 'Miss Bennet'). Mary is a relative afterthought in the original book, but this play gives her her full due. An overlooked middle child with a bookish, severe personality, Mary always struggled to stand out. Fate is on her side this time, however, with the arrival of Mr. Darcy's cousin Arthur de Bourgh, who is set to inherit the now-deceased Lady Catherine de Bourgh's massive estate. Arthur is similarly awkward in company and ecstatic to find a kindred spirit in Mary. Things seem to be going swimmingly until the arrival of Lydia Wickham, the younger and most troublesome of the Bennet sisters, and the surprise arrival of Lady Catherine's daughter Anne de Bourgh. There are several delightful twists in the romantic plot between Mary and Arthur so I will stop here, but suffice it to say it lives up to the original wit and romance of Pride and Prejudice.

Photo by Dan Norman

Miss Bennet has a very talented young cast, starting with Christian Bardin as a stunningly good Mary. Bardon lives and breathes this role right down to her squinty eyes and peculiar mouth tics, and she is a master class performer. She is well partnered with Reese Britts as Arthur de Borugh; his performance is so charming I would scarcely know he is a recent UMD grad. Veteran favorite Sun Mee Chomet sparkles as Elizabeth and has heartwarming chemistry with James Rodriguez as Mr. Darcy. I was very happy to see Roshni Desai again, this time as Jane Bingley; I wish the part allowed her witty comedic side to shine a little more, but I still enjoyed her performance immensely. Jesse Lavercombe has vivacious energy as Mr. Bingley and Anna Hickey is deliciously snobby as Anne de Bourgh. Andrea San Miguel is thoroughly irritating as Lydia Wickham, and the audience clearly loved her antics. And I have to call out Jennifer Ledoux and Abilene Olson as the singing servants, who provided gorgeous music for everyone to enjoy as scenes transitioned.

Photo by Dan Norman

Sarah Bahr designed both the costumes and sets, and the cohesive, period-specific presentation is lovely. Clever details like refreshing the set by continuously decorating for the holidays throughout the show, or adjusting a costume with a smart jacket or well placed scarf, keep everyone looking consistent but fresh. Marcus Dilliard's expert lighting washes the stage with warm wintry light, and Sean Healey's sound design subtly lets us hear every line. Robert Grier shares inspired wig design, particularly with Anne de Bourgh's magnificently curled piece. And John Novak chooses careful props that add just enough detail to each scene to reveal another layer to each character.

Photo by Dan Norman

While I didn't find Miss Bennet quite as uproariously funny as The Wickhams, I still enjoyed it very much. Because it stars Mary this is a quieter sister to Pride and Prejudice, and I found that it had some real gems of wisdom to offer. Many of the much-maligned characters of the original story (especially Mary and Mrs. Bennet) struggle to get their just due, and it's wonderful to see at least one of them treated well. Miss Bennet is a charming comedy and love story brimming with wisdom and a huge heart. If I had to choose only one holiday story this season, this is the one I would go with. I highly recommend you check Miss Bennet out before it closes on December 29; click here for more information or to buy tickets. And if you don't already know the plot of Pride and Prejudice and want to check it out before seeing Miss Bennet, you're in luck! Park Square Theatre is currently showing a production of the original story. Click here to read my review and learn more.

"The Hollow" is Anything But

I know it didn't work out this time, but can we have a little Ichabod Crane again later?  

Photo courtesy of Trademark Theater

Sometimes I think my mind exists in a vortex and I'll never catch up.

Let me explain: in my busy day to day of late, I seem to be missing basic facts. Or themes. Or just really missing the point of what I'm supposed to be doing.

For example, I had the pleasure of attending the achingly lovely original piece The Hollow by Trademark Theater last weekend. It's a nifty, 75-minute long exploration of many things; the program lists themes including "nature, mysticism, death and rebirth, coupleship, abandonment, repair and perseverance." A symbiotic pairing of contemporary dance and a Sleater Kinney-meets-First Aid Kit rock album (don't ask how I got there, just trust that it's true), The Hollow would be fully at home in the Walker Art Center's Out There series (hey Walker, give Trademark a call!). There's not really more plot than that - just a pure aesthetic, auditory experience for the sake of itself.

Somewhere along the line I had caught that The Hollow was supposed to be a modernization of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow; another glance at the program says I'm not insane and that was the initial point, but this The Hollow is so far removed from Washington Irving's 1820 novel that I can't believe the original concept was still rattling around my head somewhere. I still think it would be immensely cool to have Ichabod Crane hit the stage sometime soon and I hope someone else picks up the original project, but in the meantime - back to the scheduled programming.

The visual focus of The Hollow is on Reach (Emily Michaels King) and Resist (Tyler Michaels King). Based purely on appearances, one could be forgiven for assuming The Hollow details the story of a fraught romantic relationship. These two are superb dancers, and their lithe choreography is like a poem in bodily form. It's a good thing they're married because this performance is extremely intimate, and you can feel their kinetic energy radiating from the stage. Their contemporary, abstract costumes, designed by Sarah Bahr, add interesting shapes to their performances too; some are angular and stiff, others soft and flowing, and the cumulative effect weaves in and out of focus like a dream.

The Michaels Kings are backed up by an adroit band starring Jenna Wyse and Joey Ford who sing a roving troupe of original songs. It's a little hard to hear the lyrics live but thankfully all audience members are given a handy book of lyrics, which read like a ghoulish internal voice that won't leave you alone (song titles such as "Fearful Shapes," "Skele-bones + Burial Wrongs," "Scry" or "Scary Situation" give you an idea what I mean). The music itself is really beautiful and haunting, and I can see how it evolved out of the initial idea of adapting The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. Several audience members appeared raptly focused throughout the show (the person next to me even got a few headbangs in), so don't just take my word for it.

I'm not really sure what else I can say about The Hollow other than that it's worth seeing, if only to expand your definition of what you think theater can or should be. It's bracingly modern yet feels familiar, lyrical and abrasive, loud and tender. It's not going to give you a story or a moral or a "point," but it won't not give you those things either - and really, does everything have to have a defined outcome? Sometimes it's good to set down your smart phone and your Ivy Lee method and your nonfiction business books to give your subconscious room to roam, your nose the chance to smell the tactile pages of a *gasp* real book, and your imagination a blank page to fly around in. The Hollow is a celebration of that ancient leap towards fantasy that still lies within us all - we just need to give ourselves room to access it. The Hollow has a very short run and closes on October 20, so click here to learn more or buy your tickets now.

Bone Mother Sets the Tone for the Season

How do you define a witch? 

All images are copyright of Matthew Glover for Sandbox Theatre

Despite our burst of humid heat in the last week Minnesota is entering spooky season, which means costumes, minor toned music and pumpkin everything are about to inundate us all. I know several people who consider fall and especially Halloween to be their favorite time of year, and it seems like every year more friends are rejoicing over the return to orange and black and scary stories as soon as Labor Day passes.

But where does all this come from? Once you strip away the eerie movies and cotton cobwebs and holiday commercialization, what is left of Halloween?

Often it's tropes and mythologies that spread back hundreds or thousands of years. Take, for example, the Witch. Witch stories can be found in most cultures and invariably involve some version of an ugly old hag who negatively impacts the communities around her, usually with a curse or a dark spell. She might have a cauldron, a black cat, a pointy hat (or nose), and almost always lives in the woods.

But why does this narrative persist? What if the witch wasn't evil, or even magical, at all? What if she served some other purpose entirely?

All images are copyright of Matthew Glover for Sandbox Theatre

That is the question asked (and poignantly answered) in Bone Mother, the latest show from Sandbox Theatre. An original piece inspired by centuries of folk tales, Bone Mother tells an interconnected series of three stories about a girl named Vasilisa as she explores her feminine power. It begins with young Vasilisa, who seeks the "witch" Baba Yaga in the forest to learn the powers of the wilderness after Vasilisa's beloved grandmother dies. Soon bored with Baba Yaga's rudimentary chores, Vasilisa runs back to her village where she grows into a woman and becomes the town eccentric, alienated and lonely. She returns to Baba Yaga only to find that she still has more to learn from her community and must again live as an outcast, and out of the forest. It is many decades until Baba Yaga calls Vasilisa to her forest hut for one final encounter, where Vasilisa learns the true power of Baba Yaga and the magic of the wilderness. It's a beautiful story that felt distinctively feminine to me, full of cycles, renewal and strength.

In addition to the lyrical story, Bone Mother features aerial acrobatics in varying levels from all of its performers, who also trade in portrayals of each character through each iteration of the story. Carolina Gwinn is the first Baba Yaga and the final Vasilisa. She clearly had the most acrobatics training and brought just as much physicality to her facial expressions as she did to her silks work. I found her to be highly charismatic and fearless, a real presence on stage. The first Vasilisa and second Baba Yaga was played by Chasya Hill, a Liberian-American actress who recently relocated here from Birmingham, Alabama, and someone I predict is going to have a large impact on #tctheater this year. Hill has gravitas and a sonorous voice, and I couldn't take my eyes off her while she was on stage. Heather Stone plays the second Vasilisa and the final Baba Yaga. She has a less physical performance than Gwinn and Hill, but brought far more comedy to her performance. She was a welcome dose of levity in a story that can dip into the dark side, and I really appreciated what she contributed. Henry Ellen Sansone was alluring as the resident cat, with a mischievous Cheshire Cat flare that also added a touch of warmth. And Megan Campbell Lagas helps anchor the rotating cast of supporting characters, slipping in between mythical creatures and human portrayals with aplomb.

All images are copyright of Matthew Glover for Sandbox Theatre

One of the artistic values of Sandbox Theatre is to integrate visual design, physical performance, music and text; another is to limit consumption and minimize waste. These two tenets (of their core nine values) perfectly encapsulate the production design here. Because the performance is set in the hall of the Russian Art Museum and most of the blocking focus is on the silks, there is no set to speak of. Instead, we have a few strategically placed flood lights designed by Bryan Gunsch to set the tone for the plot; this works remarkably well, whether we are in the forest or swimming under a river. I loved Mandi Johnson's costume design, which adapted comfy athleisure wear with strategic accessories to give the actors the freedom to create highly physical performances but retain a sense of magic. And I especially appreciated the otherworldly, eerie music composed and performed by Anna Johnson, Emily Kastrul, Sarah Larsson and Willow Waters. It was the perfect accompaniment to a mystical, haunting, Russian-esque folk story, and it really coheres by the end of the show.

All images are copyright of Matthew Glover for Sandbox Theatre

Bone Mother is a truly unique performance, at once ancient and entirely original; modern but familiar; feminine and powerful. Something in it really moved me. I'm not sure if it was the effect of stripping away the trappings of elaborate sets and costumes and focusing on breathwork and the music of bodies, or the hearkening back to my favorite kind of fairy tales, or just the sense of womanly power that swept through the whole show, but I left Bone Mother feeling lightened, inspired and connected to a bigger world of spirits than when I had arrived. It's the perfect thing to watch as our seasons transition to a darker one and we prepare to sit more quietly inside ourselves. Tickets are selling very quickly, so make sure to snatch some up by clicking on this link before the whole run for Bone Mother is sold out by close on September 27.

A Steaming “Hot Asian Doctor Husband”

If you’re a rom com fan, this is the show for you

Photo courtesy of Theater Mu

I’ve waxed ad nauseam about my love for new theater work, and one of my favorite companies consistently celebrating and commissioning new plays is Theater Mu. Their new play, Hot Asian Doctor Husband, is another exciting addition to the catalog and one I think will be traveling around the country for some time.

It goes like this: Emi and Collin seem made for each other – except they’re not. At least in her mind. Emi is mixed race, and the more serious things get with Collin, the more she questions if they have a viable future. She is especially worried about having kids who might not identify with her Japanese heritage. To further complicate things, Emi’s mother, who raised her a single parent and was her last direct link to her ethnic history, recently died in a tragic accident. Emi decides to take a leap of faith and find a “hot Asian doctor husband” to fulfill her fantasy of an idyllic Asian American household, breaking up with Collin and stunning her friends.

The trouble is, of course, that love doesn’t work on preferred timelines and specific fantasies. Emi and especially Collin still have feelings for each other, which is plainly evident when they continue to run into each other after the breakup. Emi does find a hot Asian doctor and it seems like things will work out; the only trouble is that he is already someone else’s husband, which Emi learns in a devastating emotional blow that finally pushes her to confront her unprocessed depression and sadness about her mother’s death. The play goes a little off the rails after the affair with the doctor ends, taking a turn from nippy comedy into a serious exploration of mental health issues; it felt a little bit like two different plays in one, but it leaves the audience with a rich understanding of Emi’s identity crisis by the time we leave.

The cast includes Theater Mu regulars and several newcomers, and they’re a really fun crew. Meghan Kreidler deftly handles the role of Emi. No matter how serious or radical her character’s actions seem, Kreidler keeps them believable and touching. Damian Leverett is a joy as the shunned, mournfully #woke Collin; by leaning into the stereotype, he finds some kernels of truth about the white male experience that are new on the stage. Mikell Sapp is delightful as Emi’s best friend Leonard. I haven’t seen him on stage before and I sure hope this isn’t the last time. Danielle Troiano is equally lovely as Leonard’s girlfriend Veronica, bringing vulnerability and poise to the role. Eric Sharp is thoroughly, gut-splittingly hilarious as the Hot Asian Doctor Husband. His scenes were among my favorite in the show and I wish we got a little more of him. And eternal favorite Sun Mee Chomet is fabulous as the Mother characters, milking the most of her time on stage and making a great mentor to Maekalah Ratsabout, the young actress playing the child version of Emi.

The clever scenic design by Sarah Brandner is millennial approved and has all sorts of Ikea-style innovations that keep the action swiftly moving and the aesthetic clean. Costumes, by Jeni O’Malley, are equally well matched to the tone. Karin Olson’s lighting design and Katharine Horowitz’s sound design are subtle and warm, enhancing the action on stage (especially Horowitz’s original music, composed with Damian Leverett). And it’s good to see the importance of physical movement in comedy embraced by Magnolia Yang Sao Yia’s clever choreography and Lauren Keating’s intimacy consulting, a field I suspect we’ll see much more of on programs around #tctheater in this season and beyond.

Hot Asian Doctor Husband is one of the shows I was most excited for this year, and it doesn’t disappoint. Like any new play, there is some revision I’d do on a future iteration to help clarify the story – is it about Emi and Collin’s relationship, or her relationship with her mother? – but the content here is engaging and has a lot of potential. It’s a golden time for Asian Americans* in the rom com world, and Theater Mu’s consistently approachable and inspiring new work is a vital addition to the genre. Make sure to head to Mixed Blood Theatre to check it out before it closes on September 1; click here for more information or to buy tickets.

*If you want more shows like this one on the silver screen, you’re in luck! Here are a few in the last year that I have really loved: 

• Crazy Rich Asians (I also devoured the book series – highly recommend as perfect beach reads) 
• To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before (Probably my favorite on this list – keep an eye out for the sequel next year!)
• Always Be My Maybe (and don't miss Ali Wong's comedy stand-up specials, also on Netflix)
• Anything by Mindy Kaling - I especially love The Mindy Project, but Late Night and Four Weddings and A Funeral are also surefire bets. And although technically off the scope of this list, who could possibly forget The Office (the episodes Kaling authors are all my favorites)
• Fresh Off the Boat (Not technically a rom com but a hilarious comedy that does include winsome romance in some episodes and two of my favorite stars of movies listed above, Constance Wu and Randall Park)

Floyd's Is A Poignant Delight

It's starting to feel like Lynn Nottage is the only name I've heard in theater the last few years. I'm ok with that. 

Photo by T Charles Erickson

The famous don't always live up to their reputation, but Lynn Nottage sure does.

Photo by T Charles Erickson

The Guthrie made no secret of the fact that Nottage was debuting a world premiere new composition this season as a companion piece to her history-making play Sweat, which won the 2017 Pulitzer and made her the first woman (and first African American woman) in history to win the Pulitzer Prize for Drama a second time. While I haven't seen Sweat myself (just heard innumerable glowing recommendations from everyone else who has), I have to say that if it's anything like Floyd's, the hype is very real.

Photo by T Charles Erickson

Floyd's takes place in the back kitchen of a sandwich restaurant of the same name, where all of the employees are formerly incarcerated people. They all struggle to find careers and stable lives after leaving prison, and Floyd's is the first place willing to hire them and pay them a decent wage to hep them get on their feet. The only problem? Floyd, the owner, is a truly negative person. She abuses the employees physically and verbally, flies off the handle at any given time, and takes full advantage of the fact that she knows - and they know - that as much as they don't like her, there is nowhere else they can go to get back on their feet. Little by little, we learn the backstory of each employee and how it infuses their time at Floyd's and dreams for the future. The slow reveal of their lives is one of the most poignant elements of Floyd's so I won't spoil it here, but suffice it to say, it's a long overdue humanization of a very American problem that is beautifully written and acted.

Photo by T Charles Erickson

This tight-knit cast is filled with Guthrie debuts, like Floyd's itself. At the heart is a long-term favorite of mine, Dame Jasmine Hughes, who shines as Letitia in scene-stealing cameos. I can't believe it's her first time on a Guthrie stage and I'm certain it will not be her last. John Earl Jelks is wonderful as the zen-master Montrellous, lending wisdom and poise to every line. Reza Salazar is another scene stealer as the energetic Rafael; he demonstrates big heart through is performance that won the whole audience over. Andrew Veenstra gives the former white nationalist Jason a surprising amount of depth, inserting nuance into a very important stereotype these days. And Johanna Day is deliciously, heartbreakingly cruel as Floyd. Day is like the Cruella de Vil of the formerly incarcerated, and she clearly relishes the role.

Photo by T Charles Erickson

The set, designed by Laura Jellinek, cleverly opens like an aperture from an initial small vignette into a larger wide-screen, workable kitchen. It reminded me quite a bit of Mixed Blood's How to Use a Knife a couple of years ago, and it never wavers from the image of a simple prep kitchen. Jennifer Moeller's costume design is similarly straightforward. Christopher Akerlind hides all sorts of cherries into his nuanced lighting design, with special spotlights and special effects enhancing the dialogue. Justin Hicks' original music is a great background to the pauses between vignettes and gives the cast plenty of charisma to work with. And Director Kate Whoriskey has clearly provided a singular, clear vision for Floyd's that is beautifully executed by the rest of the wider production team.

Photo by T Charles Erickson

I am predisposed to enjoy shows that have a social / political message, and Floyd's fits right into my sweet spot. It's my second Lynn Nottage play (after the magnificent Ruined I saw at Mixed Blood several years ago - my first glorious time seeing Regina Marie Williams on stage), and I have a lot of catching up to do on the rest of her work. It's exciting to see the momentum mounting in the theater community towards commissioning and producing new work that reflects our current way of life, rather than constantly re-hashing old "classics" that may not have as much to say about our modern dilemmas. Nottage is a master at embedding a nuanced, believable, direct message into a highly entertaining package, and Floyd's is accessible and enjoyable for any kind of audience. I highly encourage anyone able to check out the show; click here for more information or to buy tickets before Floyd's closes on August 31.

Also: make sure your stop at the Guthrie isn't your only engagement with this subject matter. Floyd's might be a fictional play, but it represents very real problems. All Square, a restaurant in South Minneapolis, is a living embodiment of the issues raised in Floyd's. Make sure to visit All Square to get some delicious sandwiches and pay it forward to the formerly incarcerated community. 

Stinkers Smells Pretty Fresh

What happens when you end up parenting your own parents?

Photo by Dan Norman

Has any locale in #tctheater had a better year than the Jungle?

Photo by Dan Norman

In a climate when many of our treasured thespian institutions seem to be crumbling under the repercussions of #metoo era revelations, this small Uptown enclave seems to be faring better than ever. Packed audiences (many of whom are skewing into the much-desired under 40 demo); shows running on concurrent stages; selling out in a polar vortex; debuting 3 new world premieres; hiring women for all manner of roles off-stage and quietly changing the face (and resumes) of our production community… the list of successes is endless, and it’s only getting better if evidenced by the Jungle’s season closer, Stinkers.

Photo by Dan Norman

Even the story behind Stinkers is amazing: Sally Wingert commissioned a new play from an exciting young playwright who decided to make it about parenting – with dad staying at home and toddlers as actual characters on stage. Like so much of the Jungle’s recent work, Stinkers has just the right amount of subversive energy to keep you giggling in your seats but thinking really hard for days after you see it. It's a delightful piece of new writing that will be making the circuit long after Wingert is gone, and another jewel in the Jungle's crown of recently commissioned originals.

Photo by Dan Norman

Overall, Stinkers tells the story of Brad, a former chef of a failed restaurant whose current career is Stay At Home Dad. Brad seems okay with his life, until his mother Joyce – who has just been released from prison – appears at his house to crash the party. With Joyce comes her prison friend Lilith and the clingy attention of Brad’s good friend Calvin, a supremely lazy man who just can’t seem to get his life together. Joyce quickly whips the household into a ruckus, convincing Brad to start a business selling toy trucks and Calvin to achieve his lofty dreams. The only problem is the underhanded way she does this, using Brad's business as a front for money laundering and coaxing Calvin into taking risks he can ill afford with his lack of employment. Everything crumbles apart as Brad learns his mother hasn't changed that much since prison and Joyce loses her ill-gotten nest egg, leaving them left to appreciate the only thing that really matters anyway - each other.

Photo by Dan Norman

This is such a brilliantly unique script and Sally Wingert shines in the role she commissioned. Wingert's Joyce is unabashedly cocky, completely unapologetic, and a delightful mess. It's the perfect foil for John Catron's very modern father figure in Brad. Catron plays his role so winningly, and it was wonderful to see an unironic portrait of fatherhood and a male character wrestling with many of the struggles and blessings that are often faced by stay at home mothers. George Keller was delightful as the swashbuckling but tenderhearted Lilith, adding depth to what could have been a cliched character. Nate Cheeseman stole the show (as always) with his devastatingly unmotivated Calvin, always eliciting giggles from the audience. And Megan Burns and Reed Sigmund were clever as the puppeteers behind the Brad's children Evie and Oscar. Their presence really helped depict the chaotic state of a home filled with little kids, and their total commitment to the preschool mindset lent a welcome comedic relief to several tense scenes.

Photo by Dan Norman

One of the reasons I love the Jungle is that I can always trust them to do something totally unique. Stinkers is no different and is worth an audience visit. Wrapped inside this lighthearted comedy are some important narratives about recidivism, parenting, modern fatherhood, and so much more. It's a colorful piece perfect for the depths of summer and something you can enjoy taking your best friend or wryest auntie to. It's a fantastic capstone to a transcendent season at the Jungle, and I highly encourage you to check it out. Stinkers runs through August 18; for more information or to buy tickets, click on this link.

Photo by Dan Norman

Where on Earth Have I Been?

Greetings from the future, lovely readers…

Photo courtesy of One Heart Africa

I bet some of you are starting to wonder what the heck has happened to me!

In one word: Africa.

I spent all of June 2019 on the trip of a lifetime through several countries in West Africa. Naturally, a trip of this length is a real bomb in one’s work life, so I needed several weeks before and after to pre-work and play catchup for being gone so long.

I’m slowly getting back to normalcy and to having time for things like blogging! I am definitely taking some extra time post-trip to evaluate that I have enough space to accomplish all of my goals (working up in my paid job, volunteering with causes important to me, etc.), so please note that although I’m still around, I may not be on here as consistently as you’re used to depending on workload.

That said, I’m not going anywhere – and I still want to take you all along for the ride. I will be doing a series of posts about my trip breaking down tips and tricks for traveling in West Africa, which I have found is a region not often covered in media outside of local media. I’m so excited to share this with you all and learn together about places that deserve far more attention and respect than they get.

Thanks for hanging in there, and please continue to reach out as cool things arise! I love hearing what’s going on and will happily share what I can when I can.

XOXO, Becki

Autonomy Is In A Class All Its Own

I can truly promise that you will never see a show like this again. 

You've heard of drive-in movie theaters, but have you heard of drive-in plays? No?

You wouldn't be alone! It's a highly unusual concept, but a drive-in play (or maybe a drive-by play is more accurate) is exactly what Autonomy, the latest show from the ever innovative Mixed Blood Theater, is. Hosted in St. Paul's River Centre, Autonomy is a densely packed, politically charged play set amidst a closely curated collection of exotic automobiles that moves the audience through the action on golf carts, rather than having us sit statically in a theater as usual.

Photo by Rich Ryan

It's hard to succinctly describe exactly what Autonomy is all about. The main characters focus on the life of Gabby Reyes, an undocumented teenager, as she tries to survive in an America where ICE has unfettered powers three years from now and her father has recently died in a car accident. Hidden away from the public for risk of deportation, Gabby slaves away online to invent a free coding program for controlling autonomous vehicles that will help barter her freedom and make the world safer. Gabby is finally hunted down by for-profit companies like Amazon and Ford to take her coding offline, and a new chapter begins. At the same time, scientists are working to clone woolly mammoths to assist in the fight against climate change and unknowingly release an ancient pandemic in the process. All of these threads take place in and around cars and transportation. 2022 is a world where almost all vehicles are automated, and Autonomy closely examines the nuanced implications of transitioning the world to an automated driving system (which are far more complex than anyone might suspect).

Photo by Rich Ryan

The large cast is almost a who's who of #tctheater, including several of my personal local favorites. You can see three possible actresses play Gabby Reyes; we had Isabella LaBlanc, who is quickly becoming one of my top young performers to watch locally. LaBlanc is dynamic and emotional, and you can't help but empathize with her plight as the show unfolds. Other amazing performers from my local favorites include Juan Rivera Labron; Malachi Caballero; Bruce Young; Raúl Ramos; Taj Ruler; Nathan Barlow; and Ansa Akyea, all of whom make poignant cameos. There is also a delightful voiceover short film starring Joy Dolo, Stephen Yoakam and Jeff Hatcher that was hilarious and utterly charming; it reminded me of something you might see on Adult Swim, and I'd happily subscribe to a channel of similar shorts featuring local actors.

Photo by Rich Ryan

The set is really just a chance to look at all those specialty cars! It's a dizzying array of types from many eras of American automotive design, from Corvettes to El Caminos to DeLoreans. My personal favorite included a suite of movie themed cars in pristine condition. This collection included a Gotham Roadster Batmobile; Jaguar XKE Series 1, also known as the Austin Powers "Shag Jag"; a 1981 DeLorean just like the Back to the Future Time Machine; the Ghostbusters station wagon; and a bonafide Ford Econoline Scooby Doo Mystery Machine. It was so nostalgic and fun to be that close to those famous cars, and it really showed how much character and personality an inanimate object can carry.

Photo by Rich Ryan

Ambitious is hardly a big enough word to describe what Autonomy is. There are so many things about this play that are truly unique: it's not set in a theater at all; attendees have to drive around from station to station to see the show; nothing is told in a linear fashion; there are 9 concurrent productions happening at any given moment; dozens of actors and cars are included in the show, all of whom are giving distinct performances; attendees have to wear ear pieces to hear all of the dialog in the cavernous space; film elements have to be routinely switched and coordinated to match each cast member acting for each specific group, without disrupting the radio channels that the 8 other groups are listening to; and so on. It's a mammoth undertaking and mostly successful. We had some audio glitches at the very beginning of our performance, but they were quickly fixed and the rest of the show went seamlessly. I also definitely recommend getting a seat in the middle carts if possible to help with visibility, although any position will allow you to see the action. Overall, Autonomy is a really impressive risk to take, and hats off to Director Jack Rueller for the mountains of work he surely completed in order to get this off the ground and the insanity the sound and tech teams are tackling in every performance with very few errors.

Photo by Rich Ryan

I thoroughly enjoyed Autonomy and learned so much from the unusual mix of subject matter. It's an awkward mix of things on the surface - who else would be smart (crazy?) enough to combine immigration policy, automated (aka robotic) cars, and climate change into a single show that finishes in less than two hours? Somehow Autonomy not only works but actually hits on some surprisingly profound insights. Every person I overheard leaving the River Centre was having rich conversations about things they learned, and there are just so many ways in which to engage with this material. While the story may be fictional, many of the events are based on things that have actually already happened, and it's really important to remember that issues are always more complicated than they seem on the surface. Autonomy is an absolute blast and a completely different kind of theater experience, one that I highly recommend you see. I have heard that the first two nights are already completely sold out, and there are only four days of performance available - so make sure to click here to snap up your tickets ASAP before they're gone forever.

Photo by Rich Ryan

Cyrano de Bergerac is a Sumptuous Delight

Lavish. Painterly. Sumptuous. Elegant. Winsome. 

T Charles Erickson

These are just a few of the words that floated through my mind while watching the Guthrie's delicious new show Cyrano de Bergerac (Cyrano) last night.

T Charles Erickson

The tale of the monster and the damsel falling in love has been a popular story spanning centuries. We've all heard of Beauty and the Beast, The Hunchback of Notre Dame, or even (more modernly) The Shape of Water. The best of these, however, might be Cyrano de Bergerac - and let me tell you why.

T Charles Erickson

The best way I can think of to summate Cyrano is that it's a mashup of Beauty and the Beast and The Three Musketeers. Cyrano de Bergerac is a dangerously efficient swordsman and perhaps the most gifted poet of the land. He is charming, charismatic, courageous and chivalrous, but there's one problem: his nose. Cyrano has an enormous, deformed nose that takes over his face and becomes a point of conversation everywhere he visits. He has learned to deal with this and his life would be happy but for one thing: he is desperately in love with his second cousin Roxane, a beautiful and equally intelligent woman, but is convinced she could never love him because he is ugly. When he learns Roxane is in love with a handsome - but dumbstruck - fellow soldier named Christian, Cyrano hatches a plan to write Christian's letters and speeches of love to Roxane, essentially combining his soul and Christian's face into one spectacular lover. The plan works swimmingly until Christian realizes that Roxane is really in love with Cyrano through the letters he has written and that his pretty face is no longer enough; unfortunately, Christian dies before he is able to tell her, and Roxane and Cyrano spend the next 14 years in comfortable friendship before she learns too late that Cyrano's was the voice she loved so well.

T Charles Erickson

This large cast seems even larger thanks to a constant transformation between various wigs, facial hair and costumes. It's a dizzying array that only works due to the excellence of this band, led first and foremost by the awe-inspiring Jay O. Sanders as Cyrano. Sanders has so much gravitas in his performance; he reminded me on stage of a Patrick Stewart or Ian McKellan, possessing a Shakespearean temperament but a French joie de vivre. It's a potent combo, and the cast swans around him to meet his excellence. Jennie Greenberry is wonderful as Roxane, completely charming the audience from her first line. Ansa Akyea had the audience in stitches as the multifaceted Ragueneau; he truly is our local Idris Elba, and I'm always so happy to see him in leading roles on main stages. Remy Auberjonois brings his best Dumasian Three Musketeers temperament to his role as the captain Le Bret, giving the show a steadfastly honest pillar. Cameron Folmar is excellent as the slimy Count de Guiche, managing to make the character sympathetic despite his despicable tendencies - no mean feat. And I have to call out Nate Cheeseman from among the many supporting company members, all of whom were excellent. Between his sniveling Wickham and lively soldiering in Cyrano, Cheeseman is quickly becoming my favorite period actor in #tctheater. He manages to find the comedy and special moments in every show he's in, and his quick punctuations throughout Cyrano are definite highlights.

T Charles Erickson

As alluded to before, not only is the acting rock solid, but this is easily my favorite production design so far this year. Cyrano glitters from every feathered cap to bejeweled high heeled shoe, and it's a stunning visual. The set, designed by McKay Coble, is a life-size lacquered cabinet of curiosities, which is slowly stripped away and re-set in ever-sparser iterations as the action unfolds. Jan Chambers provides the *most* lavish costumes; it seems nearly every character is dripping in laces and capes and gloves and jewels, shining sumptuously at us from the stage and manipulated with charisma by each performer. I didn't see a person named for the wig and facial hair design, but I have to call it out separately - they add so much to place us firmly in the French aristocracy, and it truly enhances the fantasy and comedy of each scene. Ditto for the makeup and prosthetics team, who do a superb job crafting Cyrano's infamous nose (which is made fresh for every - yes *every* - single performance). The all-female blocking team, including Kara Wooten for fighting, Maija Garcia for movement, and Lauren Keating for intimacy, clearly coached this cast to perfection down to the last twitch of a fingertip. Elisheba Ittoop provides soft, looming context with her sound design, and Rui Rita gives us truly painterly lighting design - every scene is like looking through a Rembrandt, and it makes those gorgeous sets and costumes gleam even more richly.

T Charles Erickson

All the elements of this show perfectly align to make a delicious performance. It's visually sumptuous, beautifully acted, and the story is just so captivating. Not quite fairy tale, not quite romance, it exists in a liminal space between genres that truly has something for everyone. Swordfights? There's one every other scene! Comedy? The lines are often hilarious plays on words! Romance? Everyone is trying to woo each other in this show! Drama? Cyrano closes with a soft, wistful monologue that has all the gravitas of Hamlet's soliloquy.

T Charles Erickson

My favorite part about Cyrano is that it fully resists easy answers. As an audience, you can't help falling in love with Cyrano's beautiful soul and weep for his loneliness. However, as the character himself says - this is not a story where the beast transforms into a prince. The lesson in Cyrano is not only that looks are not the most important part of a person, but that sometimes we are our own greatest inhibitors of happiness. Had Cyrano just told the truth, he may have been able to spend many happy years with his love. It's a deceptively poignant play, and is in my top three favorite shows I've ever seen at the Big G.

T Charles Erickson

The Guthrie clearly spared no expense in putting on this production and it certainly paid off. This show would make a delightful date night and if for nothing but the eye candy (although the content is pretty good too!), it's certainly worth a trip. Click here for more information or to get tickets before Cyrano closes on May 5.

T Charles Erickson