Em starts the show appropriately, howling like a wolf in a great wolf fur coat. Then they tell the story of "The Shepherd Boy & the Wolf" (read the short, concise, traditional version here) from the point of view of the boy. They talk to us as if we were the sheep, even encouraging a few "baaas." Em fully embodies the childlike boy, rolling around on the floor, eagerly telling us about their awkward "date" with the neighbor girl, and complaining about the boredom of the job. The traditional story plays out, with the multiple "wolf" cries bringing help, until the villagers and the boy's mother no longer believe him, with a lot more substance (and some silliness) to fill in the sparse story, including a ridiculously hilarious trial. But when the real wolf really arrives, it's devastating, and the boy is forever traumatized. Fast forward 20 years, and now the shepherd man is still looking for that wolf, estranged from his family, until a journey of transformation and healing brings him home, bringing new meaning and new depth to the simple children's lesson-story.
Em wrote and performs the piece, with direction by Ben Lohrberg. They make great use of the intimate Hive space, with rows added on the sides (beware of some gentle participation if you choose to sit there), and Em occasionally leaving the space and returning via the two aisles, sometimes to signify different characters. Because they not only play the boy, but also his crush, his mother, his little brother, the big bad wolf, and more, and Em expertly transforms into all of these characters with just a gesture or placement on the stage or slight change of voice. They also make great use of the wolf fur coat (and the only other prop - a wooden chair), using it as a blanket, a sheep, or to differentiate characters. In the scenes with two characters interacting, both played by Em, you can almost see the two different people/animals. It's a performance that feels effortless, but is obviously very thoughtfully constructed and rehearsed.
The sparseness of the design suits the storytelling, with some subtle lighting changes, playing off of the blank white screen at the back of the space, to help set the tone. One small quibble is I wish they'd drop the intermission, which would make for a gripping 75 minutes of continuous storytelling. The intermission does have a narrative purpose, delineating the more playful childlike shepherd boy from the adult revenge-driven man 20 years later, but I think it could be done in a way that doesn't break the spell like the intermission does, and allows us to stay immersed in the story.
The Boy Who Cried is creative and inventive, well and concisely written using both narration and dialogue, and skillfully performed by Em with great pacing and playfulness, balancing darkness and light.
