Minnesota Fringe Festival 2023: "The Brothers Dangus Vol. 2: The People v. Dango (A Court-Mandated Parable)"

Day: 10

Show: 40

Title: The Brothers Dangus Vol. 2: The People v. Dango (A Court-Mandated Parable)

Category: COMEDY

By: The Brothers Dangus

Created by: The Brothers Dangus

Location: Rarig Thrust

Summary: The trial of a new drug with really unusual side effects that draws on classic crime movies.

Highlights: This was the stupidest show I saw at the Fringe this year, and maybe also one of the most clever. Definitely the most potty humor I've heard in an hour in a long time, including countless poo puns that are so dumb you can't help but laugh. I didn't see Volume 1 last year, but if I had I probably wouldn't have seen Volume 2. It's not really my kind of show, the humor goes a little too far for my taste, but I do admire their efforts and the extreme satire of white nationalists, conspiracy theories, misogyny, and a certain Fringe show that may have been all of the above. The four-person cast (Brian Hesser, Derek Meyer, Zach Morgan, A.J. Sass) is complete committed to the ridiculousness of this story, playing multiple characters both human and otherwise, and sometimes take turns playing the same characters. There are more movie references that I could catch (including the famous A Few Good Men courtroom scene), and wild props and costumes. Amidst all of the craziness going on, perhaps the strangest thing about this show is that veteran #TCTheater actor Charles Numrich is sitting at the back of the stage throughout the entire show, sitting in an easy chair eating, drinking, and reading the paper, and at the very end of the play he comes to the podium to recite a speech. What it all means, I'm not sure, but it's a very strange and funny and well done satire.

Read all of my Fringe mini-reviews here.

"The Kalevala" by nimbus theatre at The Crane Theater

What's The Crane Theater, you ask? It's nimbus theatre's brand new theater space in Northeast Minneapolis. Less than a year after a rent hike forced them out of their previous space in Northeast, a space where they not only presented exciting new work of their own but also hosted many nomadic theater companies in presenting their work, nimbus has found a new home. There seems to be a dearth of small affordable theater spaces for small theater companies (of which there are very many in this town), so the opening of The Crane Theater is an important and exciting thing. This big, open, airy former factory space with 30-foot ceilings will provide a great home for not just nimbus, but many theater companies who need a space in which to share their work, and also for audiences who want to see such work. That's why I donated to their Kickstarter campaign to help with continued renovations, which include a second theater/studio space, and I look forward to watching the space progress and to seeing some great theater there. Last weekend nimbus opened the first show in The Crane Theater, a new work based on the Finnish epic poem The Kalevala. As a new work it's a bit rough, but also fascinating, introducing me to a piece of literature and history with which I was previously unfamiliar, using modern language and cool design elements.

"The Storms of November" at nimbus theatre

What I love about nimbus theatre is that they often present original work, usually based on history, that, while not always flawless, is always interesting and thought-provoking and sheds new light on their subject. Such is the case with their newest work The Storms of November (written and directed by Co-Artistic Directors Josh Cragun and Liz Neerland, respectively), about sailors, ships, and shipwrecks on Lake Superior. November is a notoriously dangerous month on Minnesota's great and mysterious inland sea, and this play explores the lives of fictional characters on and off the ships, inspired by real people and events.

"From Darkness" at nimbus theatre

Everything I know about art I learned from playing the game Masterpiece as a kid (Private Auction! anyone?) and from the Baroque Art History class I took at the University of Salzburg (a pretty amazing experience because we took field trips to Vienna and Rome to see the art we were studying). So I don't know much, but I am fascinated by art and art history. But I've never thought much about art forgery, which adds a whole new level of fascination. This topic is the inspiration for nimbus theatre's new play From Darkness, written (along with the ensemble) and directed by co-Artistic Director Josh Cragun. Specifically, how does someone with the skill of an art master decide to practice art forgery instead of creating original work? From Darkness sets fictional art forger Stanley Mansfield among real artists in NYC's post-WWII abstract art scene and attempts to answer this question, as well as explore ideas of what makes art valuable. It's a fascinating, thought-provoking play, and as is often the case when I see a play at nimbus, it made me want to find out more about the topic.

Caravaggio's The Denial of St. Peter

We follow two groups of characters in two different time periods in NYC - a group of artists and art collectors in the '30s, '40s, and '50s, and art curators at the Met in the current day. Both stories center around the above piece of art - The Denial of St. Peter by Caravaggio (one of my favorite artists from the Baroque Art History class). A new curator at the Met discovers something off about the painting, leading her to research its history. At the same time, we're watching Stanley Mansfield's life and career as an artist unfold. He's a figurative painter at a time when abstract painting is all the rage. He watches his friends (including Jackson Pollack and Lee Krasner) succeed while he struggles to find his place. Through a series of circumstances, his career begins to take a different path. At the end of the play the two stories come together, and we're left wondering just who the bad guy is, if there is one.

Nicholas Nelson as the forger Stanley Mansfield

Everyone in the eight-person ensemble plays multiple characters, except for Nicholas Nelson who plays forger Stanley Mansfield, and makes his transition believable and sympathetic. Highlights in the ensemble include Art Peden as the older Stanley, Zach Morgan as his stern father and the tempestuous Pollack, and Heidi Berg as the strict art curator and gallery owner Betty Parsons. The clever set is constructed of rotating panels, opening up to form different locations, revealing reproductions (by Ursula K. Bowden) of different paintings, from Caravaggio to Pollack. The rotating panels make for some awkward scene transitions, which are nicely covered by period music and images of paintings, buildings, or old New York displayed on either side of the stage. And I recognized a few of my favorite Masterpiece paintings in the images projected before the show and during intermission. (Set design by Brian Hesser, video design by Caitlin Hammel.)

As a new play, From Darkness feels a bit long and could be tightened up a bit, but the multiple characters and timelines are nicely woven together and the ideas explored compelling, relevant, and definitely worth exploring. Who decides what art is worthwhile, and which artists are worthy of acclaim? If a viewer gets as much enjoyment from a reproduction of a painting as the original, isn't that worth something too? Fashion designers don't physically construct the garments they design (except on Project Runway); someone else makes them according to the designer's specifications. That's not so very different from Mansfield constructing a painting following Caravaggio's design. In the current age of the internet, reproductions and replications of all forms of art abound. As long as the original creator is given credit, and we all know what's going on, isn't that a good thing, to spread art to as many people as possible? I don't know, but these are some of the things this play made me think about.

As Caravaggio excelled in the technique of extreme light and dark known as chiaroscuro, "from darkness, light," nimbus theatre excels at creating original work around an interesting topic, bringing to life on their stage relevant ideas and questions about various facets of life and history. From Darkness continues through June 14 (discount tickets available on Goldstar).

"Ghost Sonata" at nimbus theatre

nimbus theatre's production of Swedish playwright August Strindberg's Ghost Sonata is delightfully bizarre. It's a surreal world full of not just ghosts but also vampires, mummies, murders, mysteries, and one insane dinner party. The only other Strindberg play I've seen is Miss Julie which, although dark and twisted, is incredibly realistic, so I was not quite prepared for the strangeness of this play written after what is known as Strindberg's "inferno crisis." But I found it fascinating, with many ideas and layers and complex characters to contemplate. I was fortunate enough to attend on a day when there was a post-show discussion, which helped me to make sense of what I had just seen. But even without that added benefit, Ghost Sonata is a wonderfully new and innovative production of a classic piece of theater, with lovely original music, ingenious set design, and a cast that jumps into the strangeness with both feet.

Ghost Sonata is one of Strindberg's chamber plays, a play with three acts that flows like a piece of music (especially when accompanied by original music played by a three-piece onstage orchestra). In the first act we meet an idealistic young student (Andrew Sass) who has just saved a bunch of people from a collapsed building. A wily old man (Charles Numrich) uses him in his plan to get inside a grand house. The old man seems to know and be connected to many of the residents in mysterious ways, especially the Colonel (David Tufford) and his crazy wife (Karen Bix). The student is fascinated by these rich people in this fine house, so he agrees to the plan. In the second act, the old man and the student have managed to get inside the house, and the old man confronts the residents and the servants over dinner as we learn of his twisted plan. In the third and final act, the student talks with the young lady of the house (Megan Dowd) and learns about the strange happenings. Her parents are crazy, she's terrified of the servants, and despairing of life in general. The student soon realizes that what's inside this house is not as beautiful and fine as it appears on the outside.

the ghostly girl scout aids the student as the old man looks on
(Nissa Nordland, Andrew Sass, Charles Numrich,
photo by Mathieu Lindquist)

The whole thing reminded me of a warped and twisted version of Downton Abbey, where Mrs. Patmore is a vampire, Carson is angry and careless, Lady Grantham is a mummy, Lord Grantham is not who he says he is, Lady Mary is sick and frightened, and Matthew is the son of a lunatic who may be on his way there himself. If the ghost of a girl scout in the first act doesn't clue you in to what you're in for, the second act insane dinner party leaves no doubt that something is amiss. Bengtsson (Mark L. Mattison) is no Carson as he sloppily spoons soup into bowls and drops some strange pink goop on the plates in front of the guests, which some of them actually eat. And then, the transition between the second and third act, from the dining room to the flower room where the young lady spends her time, is unlike anything I've ever seen. It's quite thrilling and will blow your hair back, literally (set design by Zach Morgan, who also directs).

I apologize if I'm not making sense, but this is a difficult one to make sense of. I mean that in the best possible way, it's really quite fascinating and fun to watch. Themes of class tension, redemption, relationships, revenge, and being haunted by one's past all come into play in this strange Strindberg world. It was obvious listening to the creators talk about their work in the post-show discussion that a lot of time, thought, and effort went into creating this piece, including a new modern-day translation by Danielle Blackbird, original music by Charlie McCarron, and abstract video projections by Josh Cragun. All of these pieces come together quite beautifully in a bizarre and surreal sort of way. There's really no way to adequately describe it, you just have to see it for yourself. Ghost Sonata continues at nimbus theater through November 23.


This article also appears on Broadway World Minneapolis.

"The Lower Depths" at nimbus theatre

The Lower Depths, an early 20th century Russian play about people living in poverty in a homeless shelter, is pretty dark and depressing, but it's also a fascinating exploration of the universal themes of life, truth, and relationships. As director and adapter Josh Cragun notes in the playbill, "fundamentally, it is a show about humanity and what it really means to be human." The nimbus theatre production places the story in Depression-era America. This large cast of diverse characters, embodied by a talented ensemble, lives in a run-down building, with only a bunk to call their own, and shares the joy and desperation of life with each other. Plotlines include a love triangle, illness, alcoholism, and depression, but more important are the ideas and the characters that are drawn. The ending offers no closure, but instead seems to say that this life and these people continue on.

In a beautifully run-down and cluttered shack of a building (nicely designed by Zach Morgan), we meet a group of people down on their luck (as many people were in the Depression). Among them are an immigrant couple, an actor, a shoemaker, a formerly wealthy society lady, and a prostitute. Keeping them in line are the dysfunctional family of the landlord, his wife, and her sister. Into their midst comes a self-described pilgrim, affectionately called "old man" or "gramps" by the others. He listens to the residents, comforts them, and tells them what they need to hear to soothe or provoke them into action. Love, abuse, camaraderie, death, and celebration all have their place here in the lower depths. One of the residents happily exclaims that all you need is "food, drink, music, and friends," but there's a desperation hiding beneath the surface of the frivolity of drinking and the daily routines of shopping and sweeping. As the Wikipedia page nicely sums up, "The theme of harsh truth versus the comforting lie pervades the play from start to finish, as most of the characters choose to deceive themselves from the bleak reality of their condition."

the cast of The Lower Depths
(photo by Mathieu Lindquist)

This is truly an ensemble piece, and nimbus has assembled a really nice ensemble of 14 actors. All of them have their moment to shine, particularly in the second act when plot gives way to a series of monologues about life, truth, and the human condition, and they all use it well. It seems a shame to call out any of them because they all do a fine job. But if I must: standouts include Andrew Sass in his intense portrayal of Karl (at the apex of the love triangle), Art Peden as the kind and gentle old man, a sympathetic Emily A. Grodzik as the abused sister, Nicholas Nelson as the tormented actor (of whose opera-trained voice we only hear a sample), and Brian Hesser as the genial drunk. The appropriately shabby and lived-in costumes (designed by Barb Portinga) help to create the characters, and the tone is set by Depression-era music playing before and after and the show and during scene changes, and all too briefly sung by the cast.

The Lower Depths plays at nimbus theatre's space in Northeast Minneapolis through December 22. It's nice counter-programming to the likes of A Christmas Carol, and deals with some of the same themes of poverty and generosity, but in a more somber way. I'll leave you with another quote from the director:

In a time when issues of class disparity, morality and social welfare are taking the spotlight in our national conversation, this 110-year-old work has never felt like it had more to say. But the remarkable part about this play is that it does not preach. It simply shows. A world, a diverse set of characters, and their diverse set of views on truth and the human condition. Each one has insights, Each one has weaknesses. we are left to come to our own conclusions.