"Mothership" at Penumbra Theatre

All I knew about Penumbra's world premiere new play Mothership before seeing it was that it was some kind of future dystopia story. I was prepared for something dark and depressing (maybe I've seen too much of The Walking Dead universe), but it wasn't that at all. From the beginning, there is comedy and lightness in the script and in the performances. And yes, it deals with dark themes, but with a hopeful and even joyful resolution, when a group of strangers come together to save Blackness, creativity, and the world. In these days when it seems like there's nothing but grim news and serious concerns about the future on all fronts, it's a refreshing reimagining of that story - in which the worst happens, but humanity prevails. Take a ride on the Mothership at Penumbra Theatre in St. Paul's Rondo neighborhood now through October 4.

The moment you step into the theater, you're transported into a futuristic spaceship. A sort of thick netting in a naturalist tan color covers the stage and even extends onto the walls on either side. There are round portals, including two huge round screens on either side of the stage. The play begins with a voiceover from the ship herself, and we learn that the planet has been made uninhabitable through some sort of AI-created disaster, eerily timely considering the news of this week. Soon we meet the passengers of this ship, five strangers who are placed into a pod together by the ship, as they travel to a new planet that has sent out an invitation. All of these people are Black, the White people having blown themselves up trying to escape to Mars. All of them have survived on an unfriendly planet, all have different reasons for boarding the ship. We meet Connor, a fastidious British man (Josh Walker), the tough Harp who has been living in a community underground (Ashambaga Jaafaru), a young orphan Amina (Juliah Jefferson), the chaplain Evander (Bruce Young), and Aunty Nikki (Zuhairah). Over the course of a few days, we watch these people share their stories, argue, and play together.

photo by Caroline Yang

The sixth character is the ship, perfectly voiced live offstage by Ibimina Dominique Thompson (with a bodily appearance late in the show), her likeness sometimes sort of appearing on the screens with some kind of filter. This voice is AI - not artificial intelligence, but ancestral intelligence, which Aunty has helped to create. But sometimes this voice gets glitchy, and speaks the harsher truths. She tells the pod dwellers everything they need to know, and what they have to do to save the world.

And the ship itself is incredibly designed. Very cool and futuristic, but also feeling of this earth. The repeated motif is hard to describe, but looks a little like a tiny dragon curled around itself as if about to eat its own tail, with butterfly wings. This design is lit up in various parts of the stage, and also appears on the costumes. The pod dwellers are told to change into the clothes provided by them, and it's my favorite kind of costume design - the same colors and patterns, but slightly different designs for each character: white with a sort of bright blue-green patterned patch and appliqué of the design, pants or skirts with vests for the adults, the cutest overalls for Amina. The lighting, sound, and projection design are seamlessly woven into the set, to create this futuristic space environment that I wouldn't mind spending a few days in on the way to somewhere else. (Scenic design by Chelsea M. Warren, costume design by Azalea Fairley, lighting design by Brandon Wardell, sound design by Jeff Bailey, projections design by Miko Simmons.)

Local author and therapist Dr. Resmaa Menakem combined talents with playwright Kristen Adele Calhuon to write this beautiful, trippy, and funny script, brought to life by NYC-based director Candis C. Jones and this talented cast. They quickly go from strangers to feeling like family, each actor pulling equal weight in the ensemble, including 12-year old Juliah, who more than holds her own with the pros.

Penumbra is celebrating its 50th Anniversary season, making it one of the longest running Black theaters in the country, nurturing artists like playwright August Wilson along the way. They are experts at telling African American stories, which are American stories, and we need their voice more than ever right now when the current administration is trying to silence, ignore, or forget those stories. Mothership is an allegory for how we keep our stories, our communities, alive. By working together, by speaking the truth, not by running away but by moving forward. It's a great start to Season 50, emphasizing hope and community and resiliency and creativity.