Showing posts with label Old Arizona. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Old Arizona. Show all posts

Monday, October 14, 2013

"Maple and Vine" by Frank Theatre at Old Arizona

We long for "the good old days," when things were simple and everyone was content, before the busyness and technological craze of the modern era. We admire the idyllic lives of the Cleavers or Ozzie and Harriet. But what would happen if we really could return to those days? Would we find them as wonderful as they seem? The new play Maple and Vine, which opens Frank Theatre's 25th anniversary season, explores that very idea. People from the modern world leave it to live outside of society in a world that's patterned on 1955, trying to achieve "authenticity" in everything from the food they eat to the racism specific to the time. As you can imagine, it turns out that the good old days are not exactly as simple and happy as we like to imagine. What the exquisite TV show Mad Men does for the 1960s, Maple and Vine does for the 1950s - dig beneath the shiny happy veneer to reveal the repression and unhappiness that lie underneath.

Katha and Ryu are a typical American couple, busy with their careers and hectic modern life. They've recently suffered a loss and are struggling with regaining their footing in their lives. When Katha meets a man in a sharp suit and hat who tells her about a place where life is simpler, she's intrigued. She convinces her reluctant husband to move to the Society of Dynamic Obsolescence (SDO), where he trades his job as a plastic surgeon for a position making boxes at a factory, and she trades her business suits for an apron. Katha, now called Kathy, seems to flourish in this environment as she revels in going to society meetings and making crab puffs. But Ryu, who is of Japanese heritage, struggles with the "period appropriate" racism and conflicting feelings about the "recent" internment of Japanese Americans, as well as his own conflicting feelings about his new role as "head of the household." As chief recruiters for the SDO, Dean and Ellen provide a perfect example of life in 1955, until secrets come to light that reveal they're not what they seem. Are Katha and Ryu ready to take over for them and make a life in this new old world, despite their reservations?

As usual, Frank Theater has assembled a sparkling cast. Tessa Flynn and Sherwin Resurreccion are believable and relatable as Katha and Ryu, the couple through whom we're introduced to this bizarre world. Because of their dissatisfaction with the world and their life, it's easy to empathize with them and understand why they might fall victim to this too-good-to-be-true scheme. As Dean and Ellen, Wade Vaughn and Katie Guentzel project the perfect glassy-eyed veneer of the happy couple as they provide tips to their new recruits, and also give us glimpses of what's going on underneath. Rounding out the cast is David Beukema, in a sympathetic turn as a man with a past (and current) connection to Dean.

doesn't this look like a party you'd like to join?
The three separate set areas in the wide and shallow space at Old Arizona set the scene for both periods - a bedroom and kitchen set that transform between acts from the modern era to 1955, and a third space used as an office, factory, or dining room (set design by Ursula K. Bowden). In addition, a fabulous '50s living room is also set up in the second act (see photo at left). The complicated set does lead to lengthy scene changes, but at least they're filled with smooth '50s tunes. And the '50s fashions (by Kathy Kohl) are to die for - gorgeous full-skirted dresses for the women and sharp suits for the men. (Unlike the racist and sexist attitudes, the fashion of the '50s is worth holding on to!)

Only two more weekends to catch this intriguing new play. Frank is again also offering free readings of plays by playwright Jordan Harrison during the run of the show; see their website for info about both.

Friday, June 28, 2013

"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