"Miss Julie" by Theatre Coup D'Etat at the American Swedish Institute

In a perfect marriage of play and location, Theatre Coup D'Etat is presenting Swedish playwright August Strindberg's play Miss Julie on the third floor of the gorgeous Turnblad mansion at the American Swedish Institute, in conjunction with their Strindberg exhibit. This intense three-person drama that examines issues of class, gender, love, and power in late 19th century Sweden plays out perfectly in the grand room. Photos of Strindberg's sets are on display, and there's even a quote from Miss Julie on the wall: "no matter how far we travel, the memories will follow in the baggage car." This may sound like a sweet and sentimental quote, but this is not a sweet and sentimental play. In context, the quote is more about these characters being unable to leave their past behind them, so trapped are they in the roles they were born into, no matter how hard they struggle to climb out of them.

The play takes place in the kitchen of a Swedish estate in the 1890's on a midsummer's eve. There is a party going on upstairs in which Miss Julie, daughter of the count, dances with the servants. She's particularly fond of Jean, the count's valet, and follows him to the kitchen, much to the annoyance of Christine, the cook and Jean's fiance. Here the power struggle between Jean and Julie begins, as Christine looks on helplessly. At first Julie has the upper hand and commands Jean to do her will, testing him to see how far he'll go. Later, after intermission during which Julie and Jean have gone to his room, and all that that implies, he has the upper hand and is unspeakably cruel to her. She bows to his will, but then remembers who she is and takes back control. It's a constant power struggle with each of them having the upper hand at different times, but in the tragic ending, there is no winner. Gender roles, sexual politics, and most of all the class structure that defines their lives all play a part in this intense and brutal drama.

"Kiss my shoe," Miss Julie commands, and Jean is forced
to oblige, while Christine sleeps unawares
(Kelly Nelson, Brie Roland, James Napoleon Stone)

The three-person cast lays their emotions bare in this intimate space, under the direction of Peter Beard. As the title character, Kelly Nelson portrays Julie's haughty confident demeanor hiding a lost and damaged young woman, desperate to find her way out. James Napoleon Stone's Jean is at times courteous and polite, sweet and loving, and cruelly opportunistic. Completing the trio is Brie Roland, who brings a grounded and sympathetic humanity to the role of Christine, who wants to return to her simple and straight-forward life before the events of this evening. The characters are quietly established in the first act, but things really heat up in the second act, as desperate emotions reach the boiling point.

Miss Julie continues in the Turnblad Mansion through October 26. It's a wonderful example of the site-specific theater that seems to be happening more and more often (see also Gremlin's production of After Miss Julie in the James J. Hill House a few years ago). The authentic setting aids greatly in suspension of disbelief, and the small cast in close quarters with the few dozen audience members makes you feel like you're eavesdropping on a real conversation. If you're able, take the stairs instead of the elevator to the third floor and peek into the dark and mysterious rooms of the mansion on your way up and down, and imagine the real dramas that occurred in this beautiful house and others like it a hundred and more years ago. (You can also, of course, tour the mansion during the daylight as part of the ASI museum.)

"One Flea Spare" by Theatre Coup D'Etat at the Soap Factory

"Our lives are but a splash of water on a stone. I am the stone they fell upon, and they have marked me." So ends the hauntingly beautiful play One Flea Spare by Naomi Wallace. Theatre Coup D'Etat's production, currently playing in the cold dark basement of The Soap Factory*, an art gallery near St. Anthony Main, is one of those theater experiences that will stay with me long after the lights go up. Focusing on four people trapped in a house together in 1665 plague-infested London, the play takes a hard look at who people really are when the everyday distractions of life are removed, and there's nothing left but themselves and each other. It's a harsh but beautiful view of humanity.

A 12-year-old girl named Morse begins and ends the story for us. She has broken into her neighbor's home, that of the well-to-do Mr. and Mrs. Snelgrave, after everyone in her home perished from the plague. A sailor named Bunce has also sought refuge in the house, which has all been boarded up except for one room, the only room in which no one has died. After discovering this break-in, the guard Kabe, their only contact with the outside world, has ordered them to say inside for 28 days to ensure none of them are infected. So begins a long process of these strangers getting to know each other, and the long-married couple facing their long-buried issues. We're told by Morse at the beginning of the play that not everyone survives, so we wait to see who dies and how, like a 17th Century deadly version of Survivor.

Morse (Briana Patnode), Mr. Snelgrave (Jim Ahrens),
Bunce (Peter Beard), and Mrs. Snelgrave (Ellen Apel),

It doesn't get much more intimate than this space, with just a few rows of seats on three sides of the small square that serves as the stage. There's nothing between the audience and the actors, and all of their performances are almost too real. I was completely drawn in by them, almost to the point of feeling uncomfortable as if you're eavesdropping on some very intense conversations. As their true colors begin to show in this small room with nowhere to go and nothing to do, we learn that Mr. Snelgrave is hard and cruel, Mrs. Snelgrave is lonely and suffering from a long-ago hurt, Bunce the sailor is kind and tender-hearted, yet unwilling to tolerate Mr. Snelgrave's classist attitude, Kabe the guard is a selfish opportunist, feeding off the dead, and little Morse is curious and precocious, innocent yet knowing more of the pain of the world than any little girl should.

James Napolean Stone does a beautiful job directing this fine cast and so vividly creating this world. As Morse, Briana Patnode is utterly captivating and appealing, with her ever-changing emotions displayed plainly on her open face. Peter Beard's Bunce has a raw intensity boiling just below the surface of his calm demeanor. Ellen Apel is as sympathetic as Mrs. Snelgrave as Jim Ahrens is vicious and appropriately unlikable as her cruel husband. Last but not least Brian Joyce brings the right mix of humor and creepiness to the guard who occasionally shows up at the window. Helping to set the tone is the sparse set by Meagan Kedrowski, which consists of two chairs and one boarded up wall with a window. The surroundings are well-incorporated into the set, most effectively in the concrete floor of the basement that is momentarily marked by the water that is splashed on it, until it drinks it up. The beautiful period costumes by Barb Portinga range from shabby to elegant and help to define the characters (there's even some clothes-swapping as roles are reversed). I particularly loved Morse's too-large dresses, ragged and dragging on the floor.

"Our lives are but a splash of water on a stone. I am the stone they fell upon, and they have marked me." And this play has marked me. You can't ask for much more than that from theater - a beautifully written, thought-provoking, disturbing play with wonderfully real and raw performances by the small cast in a space that adds to the tone of the show, that has a lasting impact on the audience. It's playing for two more weekends and I highly recommend that you check it out as one example of the fine work being done by small theater companies in unusual spaces.



*It really is chilly in the basement, so bring a sweater. There is street parking around The Soap Factory, but leave a little extra time to drive around and find a spot.

"Angels in America: Millennium Approaches" by Theatre Coup D'Etat at the Lowry Lab

I had never seen Tony Kushner's masterpiece two-part play Angels in America live on stage before last week (in fact the only time I've seen Kushner plays is at "KushnerFest" at the Guthrie three years ago). But I fell in love with Angels in America through the 2003 HBO mini-series and have since been eager to see it on stage. So when I heard that local theater company Theatre Coup D'Etat (which I'd never heard of before) was performing the first part, Millenium Approaches, I jumped at the chance to see it. It was as I remember the TV adaptation to be - powerful, compelling, perplexing, and moving. After it ended, I found myself wondering when Theatre Coup D'Etat will present the second part, subtitled Perestroika, so that I can spend more time with these sympathetic and/or infuriating characters.

The play centers around two couples. Joe and Harper are a married Mormon couple that is struggling: Joe because he's gay but, like a good Mormon, has learned to "Turn it Off," and Hannah because of her addiction to pills in attempt to cope with that unspoken fact. As a result, she's clingy, terrified, and suffers from hallucinations. Joe has been offered a job in DC but doesn't want to take it because of how it will affect Harper. Joe's co-worker, Louis, is the first to confront Joe with the fact that he's gay. Louis himself is having a hard time because his partner, Prior, has AIDS and is in declining health (Louis is the infuriating character I referred to earlier). He turns his partner's illness into his problem; Prior is lying on the floor in pain, and Louis cries, why is this happening to me! He ends up leaving Prior, unable to handle his illness. It's easy to label Louis as a jerk because of this, but who really knows how they'd react to that situation unless they're in it? We'd all like to think we'd stand by someone we loved going through a terminal illness, but Louis is the embodiment of that tiny part of us that questions if we'd have what it takes. But Prior isn't left totally alone, he has his fiercely supportive friend, the drag queen/nurse Belize. And he has his hallucinations - of his ancestors who also died young, and an angel who comes to visit him in his sickbed. This is where the play ends, with much more to be explored.

Prior (James N. Stone) and Harper (Megan Dowd),
who only meet in a dream

The staging of the play is very simple, with black boxes serving as chairs, beds, bars, coffins. That and the intimate space at the Lowry Lab puts the focus on the actors and the emotions of the piece. At the heart of the piece is James N. Stone as the ailing Prior. He takes the character from healthy and making light of his illness, to writhing on the floor in pain, to dressing in drag as a comfort, and he carries the audience on the journey with him. Veteran actor Steven Flamm (he's been acting in the Twin Cities for over 40 years) is the gay lawyer who also has AIDS, but denies both facts to maintain his reputation as a high-powered attorney. Despite this, Steven manages to make him a likeable and compelling character. Michael Brown (that promising young actor from American Family at Park Square) shows more of his talents as Prior's friend Belize (think True Blood's Lafayette). Megan Down manages to make Harper crazy and sympathetic (in a much different role that her recent appearance in the farce Absolute Turkey at the Gremlin). Also good are Peter Beard as the closeted Joe who slowly comes unhinged, Brandon Caviness as Louis, and Katherine Preble as the wise rabbi who later transforms into a nurse and an angel.

Angels in America: Millennium Approaches continues through August 4 at the Lowry Lab in downtown St. Paul, and will then move across town to In the Heart of the Beast for a few weeks in late August. Definitely worth checking out to see this American classic. But it's not a short play - with three acts, two intermissions, and a total running time of 3+ hours, you'll want to go in fully rested and/or get some caffeine (advice that I unfortunately did not take). And with any luck, we'll have a chance to see Part 2 sometime in the not too distant future. (Goldstar half price tickets available for the Lowry and In the Heart of the Beast).