The Metal Children

By Adam Rapp, directed by Megan K. Pence
Commonweal Apprentice Company
March 30, 2012

The Commonweal’s apprentice company production has proved to be a rewarding investment of my theater-going time the past 4 years. While The Metal Children may not rank with last year’s Metamorphosis, it remains a compelling piece of theater, doing what art at its best should do: ask the important questions.

In Rapp’s play, a small town in the Midwest is banning a book called The Metal Children, and the High School English teacher who uses the book has invited the author to town to defend the work. This sets up a classic confrontation between the artistic, freedom-of-expression, led by the author, against the small-town evangelical church and the small-minded school board. However this classic standoff doesn’t really take place—the author of the book seems clueless as to how to defend the book.

The play centers on the young adult fiction author Tobin Falmouth, played by Gary Danciu.  Danciu spends most of the play struggling to clear the fog from his head: early it is an alcohol and drug induced haze, later it is a daze caused by cracked ribs and an inability to come to terms with a world where an entire town has taken his fiction seriously. The audience waits for the protagonist to wake up and act heroically. It doesn’t happen.

High school senior, Vera Dundee, played by Rachel Kuhnle, on the other hand, is willing to defend the book and is clear about what the book means and what it calls her to do. Kuhnle has captured the often militant surety of a cause that young adults often embrace. She has hints of adolescent sweetness, but chillingly acts out a zealous response to Falmouth’s book.

Like all good theater, this play has my mind returning to the play in the days since I saw it. Rapp and director Pence keep the meaning ambiguous, not allowing for easy, comfortable compartmentalizing of the play: Is this play about the importance and power of literature? Is the play about censorship? Is the play about the responsibility of the community to guide its youth? Is this a play about the role of religion in the public schools? Rapp seems to keep the audience off balance with a musty controversy that most of the audience likely entered the theater thinking they understood.

When I do think of the play, I often think of the post show conversation with the company more than the play itself. I can’t help but think that the company was a bit disappointed by the questions and comments from those who stayed to discuss the play. One group of questions expressed frustration that Falmouth remained largely detached and missed his opportunities to do the right thing. As audience members, we are hoping for the protagonist to rise to the occasion, but the verisimilitude of the play would make this unlikely. Falmouth does grow in the play: he is able to move from a self-absorbed despondency to a self-absorbed sobriety and productivity. Taking on the full responsibility of an altruistic adult would have been too much to ask in the short arc of the play. Likewise, Vera has significantly matured in the year since the showdown over the book. But she too has only come so far. She is sobered by the impulsive choice she made and is now making adult responses to her situation. Yet she hangs on to her infatuation with Falmouth’s fictional characters. Roberta Cupp (Carla Joseph) speaks eloquently for her church, which is leading the charge against the book. She is able to have brief moments of human connection with Falmouth, but not the breakthrough that the audience longs for.

Another set of audience questions placed the blame on the high school English teacher for not properly guiding the students through a potentially dangerous book. I think this response is an understandable one: to blame the book would be to come down on the side of censorship, so it must be someone’s fault. After all, 40 girls ran away from the small town, many intentionally becoming pregnant, and one girl commits suicide. But if it is the English teacher’s fault that the 40 girls ran away in response to the book, then it must be the religious community’s responsibility that Tami Lake’s understanding of a different book caused her to turn toward suicide.

Rapp’s treatment of the interactions of characters on stage maintains a reliable verisimilitude, even while the play is surrounded by the inconceivable in a way that the audience doesn’t question. For example, a full-sized statue of Tami Lake appears just after she commits suicide. Forty-girls from a small town high school are moved by a work of fiction enough to secure a mortgage on a farm in Montana and move there before any of their parents are able to stop them. And most fantastic of all, everyone in the small town seems to have read the book and knows more about what is in the book than the clueless author. Even those who hate its content readily tell the author what a great writer he is—the vigilante thugs even quote from the book. This tendency of the audience to accept the fantastic perhaps leaves the audience willing to blame someone—the author, the church, the school—for actions that are highly unlikely while missing the point of the teen suicide which is all too common.

While Rap’s play, and presumably Commonweal’s interpretation of the play, doesn’t provide answers to the questions and doesn’t provide us with a feel-good protagonist who saves the day, there is a pivotal scene where the English teacher, Stacey Kinsella (Brandon Grayson), lying on what might be his death bed, asks Falmouth to read a specific passage from his book. In the passage, a girl tells her father that she is pregnant. The scene is full of both fear and hope, as the girl’s future lies with the father’s response. We never learn what the father says, but from what the play does disclose about the book, the father missed his opportunity.

John and Jen at the Jon Hassler Theater

The Jon Hassler Theater will host Nautilus Music Theater's production of John and Jen for four shows over the last two weekends of March. John and Jen (music by Andrew Lippa, music by Tom Greenwald) explores the complex relationships between brothers and sister and parents and children.

Set against the changing background of America between 1950 and 1990, Nautilus' production is a truly original musical, a tour de force for two actors who move from childhood to adolescence to adulthood and beyond, as they explore family connections, broken commitments, and the healing of the human heart.

John and Jen is staged by Ben Krywosz, and features Keri Rodau and JP Fitzgibbons, with Mindy Eschedor at the piano. Critics and audiences called this production "lovely, sweet, affecting - top-quality singing and acting - the score is emotionally ravishing and gorgeous beyond words - absolutely knockout performances - funny, poignant, smart - sung and acted to perfection - you'll hum a few new tunes on your way out of the theater."

John and Jen runs March 23, 24, 30, 31.

Visit the Jon Hassler Theater online for schedules and tickets: www.jonhasslertheater.org
Phone the Jon Hassler Theater at 507-534-2900.

Gruesome Playground Injuries in Lanesboro March 16

By Rajiv Joseph, directed by Eric Decker, live music by BE
A Vertigo Theatre Factory (Rochester) presentation
St. Main Theatre, Lanesboro, MN

In Gruesome Playground Injuries, accident-prone Doug hurts outside: bloody facial gashes, eye wounds, chipped teeth, and legs broken. His life-long friend Kayleen hurts mostly inside. The play takes them through childhood to adulthood on a strange but absorbing journey of pain, friendship, missed signals and bad timing. NOTE: Not recommended for audiences under the age of 16.

March 16, 8:00 p.m. St. Maine Theatre, Lanesboro
Tickets $15/$12 student. 507-467-2446.
Seating in the St. Mane Theatre is handicapped accessible.

Vertigo Theatre Factory’s production of Gruesome Playground Injuries also appears in Rochester:

March 8, 9, 10 Rochester Civic Theatre Lobby, 20 Civic Center Drive, Rochester
March 30, 31, Barnbar, Rochester

Commonweal Apprentice Company Presents: The Metal Children

As has become the custom at the Commonweal, the Commonweal season begins with a full production by the resident apprentice company. The production comes as the capstone of a 10-month residence at the Commonweal for the 5 actors, directors, production team members, ticket-takers, box office workers, and practitioners of every job conceivable at the Commonweal. All five members of the company have been busy on stage and off during the 2011 season.

It has also become customary that the apprentice production stands up very well on the Commonweal stage. The shows are challenging, thought provoking and very well played. This year’s production of The Metal Children promises to continue this custom.

Gary Danciu and Rachel Kuhnle in Adam Rapp’s The Metal Children by the Commonweal Apprentice Company. Photo by Jason Underferth.

The Metal Children, written by Adam Rapp, follows a washed up young-adult novelist as he leaves his NYC apartment for the American heartland after his book, The Metal Children, is banned by a small-town school board. There he finds something more bizarre than fiction—extreme politics, radical teens, and vigilantes in Porky Pig masks—all because of his book.

Megan Pence, who served as assistant director for two productions last season, will direct. She finds that “what’s interesting about The Metal Children is how one artist’s creation can spur a multitude of consequences. An author writes a book, and it reaches further than he ever could have imagined.”

The 2012 Apprentice Company includes Pence, Gary Danciu, Brandon Grayson, Carla Joseph, and Rachel Kuhnle—all seen on the Commonweal mainstage during the 2011 season. The set, costumes, props, and sound design are also handled by the five apprentices with the addition of guest lighting designer Michael Dold, who is a senior at St. Mary’s University in Winona.

The Apprentice Program at the Commonweal Theatre is a ten month commitment designed for recent college graduates or young professionals with commensurate experience who would benefit from a prolonged relationship with a small professional theatre company. Focused primarily on experiential learning through a traditional mentor/apprentice relationship, the program affords artistic opportunities, regular classroom instruction, and administrative responsibilities in the areas of Marketing, Development, and Production.

The Metal Children has a limited run of 8 shows, Thursdays - Sundays, March 22 - April 1.

Visit the Commonweal for schedules and tickets: Commonweal Theatre (www.commonwealtheatre.org)

Leading Ladies

La Crosse Community Theatre
By Ken Ludwig; directed by Anne Drecktrah

La Crosse Community Theater opens Leading Ladies, Friday, March 9 in La Crosse. In this comedy two struggling English actors, Jack and Leo, pose as long-lost nephews to inherit the estate of a rich old woman who has just died. Their trouble begins when they arrive to find out that the long-lost nephews are actually nieces, and the old woman isn't as dead as they thought!

Cast members include Katie Clausen as Meg, Kevin Laumbach as Leo; long-time LCT actors Michael Marcou as Jack, Megan Larson as Audrey, Dennis Kuhn as Duncan, Susan Fox as Florence and Daniel Schneider as Doc; and Daniel Rapoport, who is making his LCT stage debut, as Butch.

Set and lights designed by Andrew Brackett and costumes by Mandy Parmeter. The production is rated theatre PG.

Performances are on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays at 7:30 p.m. and Sundays at 2:00 p.m. For more information visit www.lacrossecommunitytheatre.org.

The Divorce Revolution

By Alison DeNio; directed by David Coral
Presented at Valencia’s Academy Theatre, Winona, MN

The Divorce Revolution played to a small but enthusiastic audience in the black box space at Valencia Academy last night. The play has several objectives. One of them is to increase people’s awareness that there are possibilities of life after divorce—to rewrite the narrative about divorce, as DeNio writes—not just for the adults, but for the Children involved as well. Another objective is to present a strong, work of theater. And this play meets both of these objectives.

DeNio, left, and Hamilton during a rehearsal for Divorce Revolution.

The finely-written and inventive script provides a nested narrative that is able to tell a complex story in a short space, using an honesty that allows the audience to see both the humor and the possible tragedy in the all-too-human failings in marriage and in separation.

The story is a fictionalized telling of the marriage and divorce of DeNio and her parenting partner Wes Hamilton. Hamilton was involved in the writing and production and plays himself across from DeNio. While a good number of the audience members know DeNio and Hamilton, I’m convinced that this play will hold up nicely as a play as it moves on to locations beyond Winona.

Along with DeNio’s script, the production benefits from a number of talented managers and designers, headed by director David Coral. Coral just finished his second season with GRSF and a prominent role in the Commonweal’s Ibsen offering, Enemy of the People this past spring.

Tonight is the last scheduled performance in Winona, and while the play is likely to see more productions here later on, I highly recommend seeing this one tonight if you can.

For more information onThe Divorce Revolution, visit www.divorce-revolution.com/.
The Divorce Revolution plays Saturday, August 6, 2011 at Valencia Academy, Winona, MN, 7:00 p.m.
It runs 1 hour, with a panel discussion after a short intermission.

Sylvia

A.R. Gurney, Dir. By Alan Bailey
Commonweal Theatre (July 11, 2011)

The premise of A.R. Gurney’s Sylvia is pretty simple: A middle-aged man whose kids have moved off to college and whose job has lost its purpose and whose wife has filled her life with a new profession finds a stray dog in Central Park and falls terribly in love with it, placing stress on the relationship with his wife.

It’s always dangerous to bring either kids or animals on stage because the audience can move into the oh cute mode. In fact, when a picture of a real dog is displayed at the end of the play, the audience gives a collective “oh cute.” But Sylvia largely stays above this emotive realm by representing Sylvia as a human being, not a person in a dog suit.

Adrienne Sweeney and Phil Losacker in the Commonweal’s Sylvia
(Photo by Jason Underferth as seen in American Theatre)

Adrienne Sweeney handles the role of the stray dog, and it is her performance that makes the play stay on the right side of the oh cute line. Sweeney plays the role on two feet and largely as a human being. Yet, she offers enough subtle (and sometimes not so subtle) moves that anyone who has spent any time with animals would see her as a dog. In fact, by the end of the play, Sweeney has become the dog. When that picture of the real dog is displayed at the final scene of the play, I think the audience is a little surprised to see an actual dog and not Sweeney in the portrait.

Sylvia speaks, in English. In fact, the dog has the first lines of the play. If having an animal on stage risks pushing a play over the edge, an anthropomorphic animal—a Snoopy or Garfield—could doom a play. But somehow, Sweeney and her surrogate family, Greg (played by Phil Losacker) and Kate (played by Laura Depta the night I saw the play) are able to keep the conceit working: Sweeney is still the dog. The play’s notes suggest Gurney’s strategy for the talking dog: the dog speaks largely what the people around her expect her to say and sometimes what the people around her are thinking. While this may not always be the case, the talking dog motif works because the dog does seem to reflect what the people feel and what people expect the dog to feel. And this seems to be one of Gurney’s main observations: people interact with their pets with a both a frankness and affection that is therapeutic.

This therapeutic effectiveness of pet ownership is contrasted with the three advice-offering characters that Scott Dixon plays in Sylvia. (This seems to be a recurrent talent of Scott Dixon—playing a large number of the supporting characters in a play. I’m not sure if this is written into the play as it was in Jeffery Hatcher’s adaptation of Turn of the Screw last fall or if this is a Commonweal invention. But it is fun to watch). Dixon plays the recurring role of Tom, a New York tough who is strangely in touch with the complex relationship between man and dog and husband and wife. (Tom’s dog is named Buster, a much safer name for a man’s dog than the gendered Sylvia, he warns.) In each appearance, Tom has read another pop psychology book and has another insight into the relationship between a man and his wife and a man and his dog. Greg seems to find Tom’s insights helpful, but mostly his accidental meetings with Tom give Greg the opportunity to talk openly about his relationship with his dog. Tom’s thinking certainly is more substantial than the other two characters Dixon plays: Kate’s former college classmate and self-proclaimed expert on New York society and Kate’s androgynous and self-obsessed therapist, Leslie.

While Dixon plays these two cross-dressing roles effectively and to many of the play’s biggest laughs, these two characters move the play outside of what an audience can accept as real. This is a bit of irony: the anthropomorphic dog plays like realism while the socialite driven to the scotch decanter by an over-friendly dog plays like a bad sitcom; the pet seems a living character while the therapist languishes as a caricature.

The strength of Gurney’s play, and the strength of this production, lies with the ability to make Sweeney’s character feel like a living character—a dog. A human playing a dog is certainly a comedic element, but I find it a satisfyingly comedic element rich in its subtly and physicality. I’m not as satisfied with the play’s willingness to embrace the cheap laugh, the laugh that seems to be the staple of all too many summer comedies. Of course, this type of comedy wouldn’t be used if it did not resonate with play-goers. On the way out of the theater, people were talking about Sylvia, about their own pets, but mostly about Dixon’s portrayal of Leslie the therapist. One fellow patron declared that his favorite character in the play was the therapist.

Sylvia plays in repertory with Little Shop of Horrors through August 19.
Visit the Commonweal for schedules and tickets: Commonweal Theatre (www.commonwealtheatre.org)