"Thank You for Holding: The Caregiver Play Project" by Wonderlust Productions at 825 Arts

Wonderlust Productions is unique in the kind of theater that they make. Whether it's prison, or state government, or in this case caregiving, they spend a couple years researching a topic, specifically by interviewing people in the community who live in it. Then they create a new piece of theater, with both professional actors and these community consultants acting in the story. The result here is a very moving, raw, truthful depiction of caregiving, the pain and the joys and the endless bureaucracy of navigating a broken health care system. While I have never been a caregiver (yet, as this show reminds us), at least not to humans, I have been a witness to caregiving, and it is probably the hardest and most necessary job there is. But a thankless and often unrecognized one, so kudos to Wonderlust to shining a light on it, and letting caregivers tell their own story. Thank You for Holding continues at the new theater space 825 Arts on University in St. Paul through November 3.

"Or," at Park Square Theatre

Or, What a curious title - O-r-comma. Before seeing the regional premiere of this new play by Liz Duffy Adams at Park Square Theatre, I was on board with the concept - a comedy about England's first female playwright - but I couldn't quite figure out how the title fit into that. Fortunately, the play begins with a delightful prologue delivered by its star, the also delightful Emily Gunyou Halaas, explaining the title. Or, is an exploration of opposites, dualities, and the idea that those opposites can coexist. "We all embody opposites within, or else we're frankly too dull to live."

The play is a fictionalized account of real people in late 17th century England - playwright and former spy Aphra Behn, King of England and theater supporter Charles II, and his mistress, the actress Nell Gwyn. This is not the first play I've seen about these characters; last year's Compleat Female Stage Beauty by Walking Shadow also featured Charles II and Nell Gwyn, but focused more on the consequences of Charles allowing women on the stage to play female roles formerly played by young men. But while that play is a pretty dramatic and deep, Or, is pure comedy fluff written in the style of Restoration Comedy, which Wikipedia tells me is "notorious for its sexual explicitness." There certainly is a lot of that in the play, as the three main characters form a relationship that could be called a polyamorous* triad (thank you Shonda Rhimes) - a true love triangle. Charles is Aphra's "keeper," Aphra and Nell are lovers, and then Charles meets Nell. The three live happily ... well, at least for the moment.

the happy threesome

The most fun part of this play is that two of the three actors play three characters each, often in quick succession, exiting one door as one character and moments later entering another door as a different character with a different costume and accent. I bet the backstage view of this play is just as entertaining as the view from the audience. Mo Perry is an absolute scene stealer with all of her characters - the carefree Nell, the stern theater owner Lady Davenant, and especially the loyal servant Maria. Matt Guidry is also great as the powerful and fun-loving king, quickly changing to Aphra's former lover and current spy William Scot, on the run and hiding out in Aphra's room. The one constant through this revolving door of characters is Emily Gunyou Halaas as our heroine-spy-poet Aphra. I always enjoy seeing Emily on stage because of her emotional investment in her characters and the way the scripted words come out of her mouth (she was most recently seen in the wonderful In the Next Room at the Jungle, one of those "or" plays). Her Aphra is smart and strong, poetic (often speaking in rhyme) and pleasure-loving.

The period costumes by Annie Cady are gorgeous, from Nell's smart and boyish pants, to the king's beautiful coat, to Aphra's elaborate dresses. The set by Michael Hoover is simple, spacious, and elegant, with plenty of doors for the actors to disappear behind and make their quick change. Also adding to the period feel is the music played before the show and during scene changes - a sort of chamber music arrangement of Beatles songs.

All in all I found Or, to be very enjoyable. I'm not sure that all of the complexities of plot work, but it's a very fun piece with a great cast, nicely directed by Leah Cooper. A play written by a woman, directed by a woman, and starring a woman is definitely something I can support, especially when it's this good.


 
Or, from Park Square Theatre on Vimeo.




*See also this recent episode of Our America with Lisa Ling.

"The Pride" by Pillsbury House Theatre

I didn't know much about The Pride before I saw it.  I had seen a Pillsbury House Theatre production at the Guthrie this summer (In the Red and Brown Water) and was impressed by the play and the theater's commitment to the community.  I wanted to see something in their theater (at Chicago and 35th Street in Minneapolis), and I'd watch Tracey Maloney in anything, so I went to see The Pride.  I was blown away.  It's a great play with an important message, at times painful to watch, uniquely constructed in two different time periods, with brilliant acting by all four cast members.

The two interconnected stories feature three characters in two time periods in London: 1958 and 2008.  They're sort of the same characters (they have the same names in both time periods), but they're fundamentally different, maybe because of the culture they're living in.  With each scene the action switches from one time period to the other.  Even though the set doesn't change (except for the opening and closing of doors on a bookcase), it's obvious which time period we're in by the clothing and the way the actors carry themselves.  It's amazing to watch these actors create two such distinct and fully realized characters (not to mention the super quick costume changes).  Even their accents and way of speaking are different between the two time periods.  There's a delightful array of British accents, like watching a great show on BBCA.

Our three main characters are two gay men and a woman, and the triangle takes different forms in the two time periods due to the social norms of the time.  In 1958, Sylvia (Tracey Maloney) is married to Philip (Matt Guidry), but something is off in their marriage.  They seem happy on the surface, but Sylvia is desperate to have a child because she's afraid of being alone with Philip for the rest of their lives.  She introduces her husband to her co-worker Oliver (Clarence Wethern), suspecting, but also dreading, that they might have something in common.  They feel an instant attraction to each other, which Philip unsuccessfully tries to ignore.  They have a brief but intense affair until Philip ends it, in what may be the most realistically and painfully violent scene I've ever seen on stage.  It's a tragic exploration of what happens when people aren't allowed to live their own truth.

Fast forward to 2008 when times are different.  Philip and Oliver have been together for a year and a half, but Oliver repeatedly cheats on Philip, and Philip has finally left him.  Sylvia is Oliver's best friend who introduced the two men.  Oliver is miserable without Philip and wants him back, and Sylvia reluctantly helps him as they all prepare for London's Pride parade (hence the title).  This story is more hopeful than the earlier one.  In the second act the apartment set changes from Syliva and Phillip's 1958 flat and Oliver's 2008 home to Syliva's 2008 flat.  On prominent display is one of those photo series that spell out a word with photos of things that resemble letters, and this one spells "HOPE."  The play ends with 1958 Sylvia repeating Oliver's earlier words, that one day "it will be all right."  We're not quite at the place of total equality and acceptance of all people, but as The Pride illustrates, 2008 is closer to it than 1958.

It's an interesting juxtaposition between the two sets of characters.  In 1958 Oliver is the one who is sure of and confident in who he is, while Philip is doing everything he can to deny it and live by the standards of the day.  In 2008 Philip seems to have it all together, even a career that he loves instead of the job that the 1958 Philip is stuck in.  Oliver is the one who doesn't know how to get what he wants, and is his own worst enemy.  As I said before all of the actors do an amazing job creating their different-yet-similar characters.  Clarence Wethern is particularly impressive in his portrayal of the strong but vulnerable 1958 Oliver, and the lovable rogue of 2008, whom you can't help but root for despite his frequent mistakes.  In addition to the three main characters, three completely different secondary characters are played by Paul de Cordova, two of which are scene stealers.

The Pride, directed by Co-Artistic Director Noël Raymond, runs through October 16 at the Pillsbury House Theatre.  It's not an easy play to watch, but well worth the effort.

"Man of La Mancha" by Ten Thousand Things at Minnesota Opera Center

I failed in my quest today - my quest to find a pair of yellow shoes.  But if I learned anything from Don Quixote, it's that it doesn't matter if you fail in your quest, it only matters that you have a quest and continue to strive for it no matter what obstacles you encounter.  There's nobility and grace in that.  So even though I may never find the perfect pair of yellow pumps, I'll continue to search for them.

That's kind of a silly analogy, but Ten Thousand Things' Man of La Mancha is kind of silly.  And I mean that as the highest compliment.  It's playful and profound at the same time.  The play-within-a-play set in a prison seems like a perfect choice for Ten Thousand Things, considering a large part of their work is performing in prisons.  I imagine it has a different sort of poignancy in those locations than it did in the spacious room at the Minnesota Opera Center where I saw it.

Man of La Mancha is a musical based on Spanish author Miguel de Cervantes's seventeenth century novel Don Quixote.  Cervantes is the main character in the piece, a poet who, after being thrown in prison, pleads his case to the other prisoners by telling the story of a crazy old man who thinks he's a knight named Don Quixote.  Cervantes and his servant act out the story, and the other prisoners also play roles, at first reluctantly, and then enthusiastically.  Steven Epp (whom I last saw in The Homecoming in Baltimore) is crazy brilliant as the mild-mannered poet who transforms into the charmingly insane knight.  His version of the signature song, "To Dream the Impossible Dream," is different than you've ever heard it.  It starts off as a vulnerable, unsure, almost whispered idea of a dream, and grows into the strong confident voice of a man fighting against all odds.  It brought tears to my eyes.

Cervantes' servant and Quixote's squire Sancho Panza (whom Quixote calls Tonto, Santa, and various other names in a running gag throughout the show) is played by Luverne Siefert.  I've seen Luverne in a few different productions over the last year, and I've come to believe he's a true clown, in the best sense of the word.  He can take a simple throwaway line and turn it into the funniest joke, just through his line delivery or the expression on his face or way he moves across the stage (or in this case, floor).  He's truly a delight to watch.  Regina Marie Williams (who was also in TTT's recent production of Doubt) plays the prostitute Aldonza whom Don Quixote sees as the beautiful lady Dulcinea.  This is a woman who lives a hard life with no beauty in it, and because of the way this man speaks to her and treats her, she begins to believe in herself and the world again.  Rounding out the cast and playing multiple roles are Tracey Maloney, Matt Guidry, and T. Mychael Rambo (who lets his amazing voice ring out a few times during the show).  It's so much fun to watch this cast work together and with the audience.  Since the show is performed in the same style as it is on location, the lights are up, so the actors frequently look at the audience and make side comments.  At one point Quixote grabbed someone's program to make a dagger to fight with, and Steven handed part of it back saying, "my bio's in there."  I was sitting in the front row very close to the action; I was afraid someone was going to end up in my lap!  One of the beautiful things about watching a Ten Thousand Things production is that it's so intimate and immediate, you really feel like a part of the show.  It's almost like watching the neighborhood kids put on a show in the basement, if only your neighborhood were populated with the most talented actors, directors, and musicians in the Twin Cities.

In typical Ten Thousand Things style, the music is less of a focus than in the typical production of a musical, focusing instead on the story, in which conversations morph into songs and back into speaking.  That's not to say that the music and sounds (by Music Director Peter Vitale and Michael Pearce Donley) are not lovely, but it's not the lush musical sound you might expect from a musical.  The props all come out of Cervantes' box and include a muffin tin for armor, brooms for horses and/or lances, and a metal bowl as a helmet.  It's sort of a double suspension of disbelief, as the prisoners make do with what they have to tell the story, and we as an audience go right there with them.  It's a truly magical transformation.

Don Quixote is only defeated when forced to look into a mirror and face reality.  All of his noble dreams fall away and he's just a simple, sick, old man again.  But that spark is still in there, as at the end of his life he remembers.  Don Quixote sees life as it could be, not as it is.  Because sometimes "too much sanity is madness," which I think was never more true than it is today.  I rarely watch the news because it's overwhelming and depressing to focus on all that is wrong with the world.  The world of Don Quixote is a much nicer place to be, at least for 90 minutes on a Sunday afternoon.  The show is playing for two more weekends, check it out if you want to escape from reality for a little while and be taken on a wonderful journey.