"Waking Miss Daisy" by Combustible Company at The O'Shaughnessy's Frey Theater

#TCTheater veteran actor James Craven starred in Jungle Theater's production of the Pulitzer Prize-winning play Driving Miss Daisy in 2013, a play that I (a White woman from Minnesota) saw and loved, seeing it for what it is on the surface - the story of an enduring lifelong friendship. But James, with his experience as a Black man, looked deeper, and asked questions about what was going on just outside the action of this play, in the American South in the mid-20th Century. He did not get satisfactory answers, but it did inspire him to write his own version of the play, which 13+ years later he has done, along with Combustible Company's Kym Longhi who also directs the piece. The result is an unflinching look at the ugliest parts of American history. The parts that we don't like to remember, that we like to pretend are over and done with, the parts that the current administration is trying to erase. But now more than ever it's important to remember all of our history, even or especially the ugly parts, to ensure they don't happen again. It's time for Miss Daisy, and all of the Miss Daisies out there, to wake up to the reality of what her dear Hoke's life was like, what his family's life was like, when he wasn't driving her around. As with all of Combustible's work, this piece uses movement to help tell the story, with the addition of historical images to really bring this history to vivid life. Unfortunately this is a super short run, and only three performances remain, but if you're able, please go see this powerful, sobering, and important new work (through March 14 at the O'Shaughnessy's Frey Theater on the campus of St. Catherine University).

"The Hairy Ape" by Combustible Company at Center for Performing Arts

Combustible Company's newest show not only feels like it was written today, it feels like a devised work created by the company. But The Hairy Ape was written over a hundred years ago. They've taken Eugene O'Neill's story of a blue collar worker who suffers an existential crisis and turned it into a reflection on today's world, how some people feel forgotten by our leader and politicians, and become susceptible to political rhetoric. It's quite disturbing in the end, the kind of theater that holds up a mirror and makes you uncomfortable. But it's beautifully told with movement, stylized performances, and images. It's playing for seven performances only at Center for Performing Arts.

"Monster Heart" by Combustible Company at the Southern Theater

200 years after its publication, Mary Shelley's novel Frankenstein still holds a permanent place in our culture, having inspired countless adaptations in theater, film, and television over the years. There's a reason that this story of the creature who just wants to be loved and accepted, and the destruction that follows when he isn't, continues to appeal to us; there's something very human about this creature. The author's life, while less fantastical, is every bit as dramatic as her story. Combustible Company's new piece Monster Heart combines the two stories into one beautifully tragic arc of love and grief (see also Collide Theatrical's recent Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, which did the same through dance and pop music). Combining text from the novel and other writings of the time with music and movement, they weave a haunting tale, shedding new light on this familiar story. Only four performances remain in this short two-week run; click here for info and tickets.

"The Imaginary Invalid" by Combustible Company at Gremlin Theatre

Their opening night was cancelled in the Great April Blizzard of '18, but a little (or a lot) of snow didn't stop Combustible Company from delivering a funny, clever, relevant, and really well-done version of Moliere's The Imaginary Invalid. When I finally made it to Gremlin Theatre two days later than planned, I found myself thoroughly entertained for two and a half hours by this delightfully odd mixture of humor, music, social commentary, bright costumes, and pharmaceutical ads. The play may be over 300 years old, but this clever new adaptation (by Oded Gross and Tracy Young) brings out all the relevance to 2018 in this story of a hypochondriac struggling with health care issues, as so many are today. The modern references make the play feel fresh and current, while still keeping a tie to the original, and the consistently fantastic cast plays up the comedy to a hilt, without losing sight of the humanity of the characters. (Playing through April 28, click here for info and tickets.)

"Bluebeard's Dollhouse" by Combustible Company at the James J. Hill House

If the candy and decorations at Target haven't made you aware that Halloween season is upon us, Combustible Company's immersive and mobile merging of two disastrous marriage tales Bluebeard's Dollhouse will leave no doubt. It's performed in multiple locations in the gorgeous historic mansion that is the James J. Hill House, and it's super creepy. It's definitely not your typical night at the theater - walking up and down grand or narrow staircases, entering rooms simple or elaborate, and seeing scary looking dolls everywhere you turn. If you like a good fright, and appreciate invention and creativity and, well, something that's just different, Bluebeard's Dollhouse (continuing through October 15) is the experience for you. I'm not very fond of scary things and horror (Halloween is a non-holiday in my life), but I appreciate the artistry that goes into creating this very detailed world at this incredibly cool location.

"The Woodsman" by Theatre Pro Rata at nimbus theatre

I'm not sure there's a more detested group of people than child molesters. It's one of the few things that everyone can agree on, that taking advantage of an innocent child in that way is unforgivable. Or is it? Can child molesters change? Can they become valuable members of society again after serving their time and paying for their crime? Do they deserve a second chance? Steven Fetcher's play The Woodsman (which was made into a 2005 movie starring Kevin Bacon and Kyra Sedgwick) grapples with these difficult questions. It's not an easy play to watch, but Theatre Pro Rata's production is so well done, thought-provoking, and impactful, that it's worth the effort.

Walter (Adam Whisner) has recently been released from prison after serving 12 years for molesting little girls. How many little girls? "One too many" is his response. As he tries to integrate into society, his only friends are his therapist Rosen (Ben Tallen), who he begrudgingly talks to, and his brother-in-law Carlos (James Rodriguez). His sister is unwilling to see him, or more importantly, let him near her children. Walter swears he'll never do it again, but doesn't seem to quite believe it's possible. He's harassed by a cop (William Goblirsh) who doesn't believe it either, and is just waiting for Walter to fail. At work, Walter meets Nikki (Katherine Kupiecki) and begins to open up to her. He tells her his deep dark secret, assuming she'll run away. But she doesn't. She's shocked, but is able to see past Walter's crime to the man he is. The only apartment Walter can afford is across the street from an elementary school, just outside the 100 feet his child molester status allows. As he watches the school and the kids from his window, he notices another man watching the children, and recognizes his behavior. In the park, Walter meets a 12-year-old girl named Robin (Lillie Horton), causing dangerous old feelings to resurface. Will he be able to make a different choice this time?

Adam Whisner as the title character
(photo by Charles Gorrill)

This is a strong six-person cast, as directed by Erik Hoover. Adam Whisner's performance as Walter is particularly affecting as he creates a layered character that's alternately guarded and fully vulnerable, sympathetic and detestable. I found myself rooting for Walter and wanting him to be "cured," for his sake as well as for any potential victims. Another highlight in the cast is young Lillie Horton as the friendless bird-watching girl Robin. The scene between the two of them is so quietly scary and emotionally draining that you almost forget to breathe. The entire cast does a great job of bringing the many sides of this issue to life, without providing any pat answers to the problem.

The backdrop consists of black drawings of a tree and playground equipment on a white background, with shadow puppets representing the man and children across the street. Both set and puppets (designed by Derek Lee Miller) are at the same time lovely and slightly creepy, which sets the perfect tone for the play.

The Woodsman is an unsettling play, but one that deals with important and thought-provoking issues of rehabilitation and forgiveness. Playing now through March 22 at nimbus theatre.

"Herocycle" by FTF Works at Old Arizona Theater

Evel Knievel. You probably know the name even if, like me, you don't know much about the man behind the legend. FTF Works' Herocycle, a remount of a 2008 Fringe show, explores the life of Robert Knievel in a creative and innovative way, using aerial acrobatics, circus tricks, music, and the work of Joseph Campbell. The result is a really unique, physical, and captivating piece of theater.

This is a work that doesn't really follow any conventions of theater, so it's hard to even know where to begin describing it. So I'll just jump right in. Evel Knievel, the famous daredevil who made a career out of jumping his motorcycle over cars, animals, and various other objects, is played by two actors, Erik Hoover as Robert Knievel and Jim Peitzman as the alter ego he created for himself. The two often debate, the daredevil side convincing the human side to take greater and greater risks. Robert spends much of the show in a wheelchair, representing the cumulative three years he spent in the hospital recovering from various crashes, while Evel is often flying overhead on aerial silks, irrepressible. Both are dressed in Evel Knievel's trademark white suit with the stars and stripes, like 70s superheros, as is Beth Brooks, who is credited as "Reporter, Goddess" but serves as a sort of narrator and guide through the story. We learn a little bit about Robert's life and history, with Sasha Gibbs playing his wife and a groupie. Both Beth and Sasha sing at times with a fantastic band (original compositions by Sam Brooks, and a special shout out to violinist Maliya Gorman-Carter who at one point plays while suspended from the air), although this is not a musical. But most remarkable of all is the physical way all of the cast moves about the space, which is populated with various size ramps, jumping, rolling, spinning, flying. It's exhausting and fascinating to watch. Every time someone (usually Jim) was up in the aerial silks I couldn't take my eyes off of them, especially when Jim went into an almost free fall descent, stopping a few feet from the ground. It's a clever way to show the daredevil aspect without having an actual motorcycle jumping through the air onstage.

I find myself drawn to stories of people who take great adventurous risks in the pursuit of something that they usually can't even explain themselves. It's a drive that some people have to challenge themselves, just to prove to themselves (or the world) that they can do it. It's the same thing that drove Nik Wallenda to walk on a tightrope across a gorge near the Grand Canyon just a few days ago, something that Evel dreamed of doing on a motorcycle. (Perhaps it's the same thing that drives me to run marathons and go on "vacations" where I hike all day instead of lay on a beach, like most people do on vacation.) When George Mallory was asked, "Why do you want to climb Mount Everest?" he famously replied "Because it's there." I suspect Evel Knievel would have responded in a similar way if asked why he wanted to jump 15 buses on a motorcycle. Joseph Campbell explored commonalities across cultures and their stories, and the archetype of a hero that is present in all of them. I'm not sure if Evel Knievel was a hero, but he was definitely on a journey towards something or somewhere, whether or not he ever reached it. And there are many similar stories on smaller and grander scales throughout the world and its history.

I don't know if I did Herocyle justice (it's a little hard to wrap my head, and words, around it), and I'm sorry if I rambled a bit there, but that's what good theater does - make you think, explore new ideas, and make connections. This piece, created by Erik Hoover and Kym Longhi, is the most creative thing I've seen on stage in quite a while. The actors and musicians are all wonderfully expressive, the costumes are awesome, the moving set pieces are interesting but never in the way of the story. The whole package is unique and creative, a little odd, but just a fascinating creation. Only two performances remain, so get there fast if you're interested in exploring a little.

Erik Hoover, Beth Brooks,
and Jim Peitzman

"The Oldest Story in the World" by Theatre Novi Most at the Southern Theater

I just got home from my first show of the season at the Southern Theater in Minneapolis, where I have a four-show season package. The Southern Theater presents unique and innovative works of theater, dance, music, and film (or some combination thereof) from many diverse companies, both local and national. It's a beautiful theater that celebrated it's 100th anniversary earlier this year. The theater itself has brick walls and a magnificent arch at the back of the stage, which is often used to advantage in the productions. I've only been there once, for Theater Latte Da's lovely and innovative triptych of musicals The Passage of Dreams. I decided to get a season pass at the Southern to increase my exposure to other theaters around the cities. And my first experience was wonderful. Or, to quote a fellow theater-goer I overheard when leaving the theater, "It was weird. But it was good."

Theatre Novi Most, which means Theatre of a New Bridge, was founded by Lisa Channer, the director of this piece, and Vladimir Rovinsky, an actor in the piece. According to their website, Novi Most "combines the artistic traditions of Russia and America to create dynamic physical theatre performances in which seemingly disparate ideas, languages and cultures can clash, commingle and cross-pollinate." They definitely succeeded with this production, The Oldest Story in the World, based on the epic of Gilgamesh. If you're like me, you've heard of Gilgamesh and vaguely recall reading it in college, but don't remember much about it other than there's some kind of beast. Let me summarize: Gilgamesh is the king of Uruk (an ancient city near modern-day Iraq) and is two thirds god and one third man. He's arrogant, and to teach him a lesson, the gods create a foe/friend for him, Enkidu, who is two thirds animal and one third man. They fight a monster, Enkidu is killed, and Gilgamesh is cursed to mourn for the rest of his days. He fears death and so seeks out the one immortal, Utnapishtim, to ask him the secret of beating death. The first translator of the story, George Smith, is also a character in the play.

This production felt so epic that I was surprised when I left the theater to see that only 90 minutes had passed. It felt like I was in there for a hundred years, but in a good way! It really felt out of time, with the ancient story mixed with modern set pieces, including flickering TVs, file boxes, and pool cues. I'm not sure if this would be classified as a play, a musical, or a dance piece, but it was really partly all three. There was a chorus of three singers who would sing parts of the epic of Gilgamesh, in a haunting way that evoked a sense of the ancient, while still seeming modern at times. And the movement and choreography was beautiful. The part-animal Enkidu, played by U of M student Billy Mullaney, really did move like an animal. He and Erik Hoover, who played Gilgamesh, danced and fought beautifully together. The five gods were dressed in modern yet classic clothing, and watched the mortals, laughing or crying. Utnapishtim and his wife were like an old married couple, blessed (or cursed?) to live together for eternity. According to the epic, the gods created humans and gave them life, but also death, so that they would appreciate their life. Because it's the knowing that it's temporary, that it will end one day, that gives life meaning.

I was touched by this quote that was sung by the chorus and also printed in the program:

"Enjoy your life, spend it in happiness.
Savor your food, make each day a festival.
Let music and dancing fill your rooms.
Love the child that holds your hand.
Give your love pleasure.
That is the only way for us to live."

It struck me as so amazing that words written over 3000 years ago are still so true today. Something so simple, but something humanity has struggled with since its existence. And if this was known 3000 years ago, why are we still so messed up today? Life is a constant struggle to re-learn this lesson. And theater is a powerful way to do it. As Lisa wrote in the director's note: "Myths are personal things. They are the breadcrumbs our smart ancestors left us to find our way back to them and thus to ourselves... we are all really the same quivering human souls regardless of time or place."