Review - The Signature Plays

Many months ago, one of my favorite theaters in one of my favorite locations announced they would be doing an evening of absurd/avant garde one-acts by Albee, Fornes and Kennedy.  I was so excited and I waited for what seems like eons before tickets went on sale.  And when tickets went on sale, I pounced, not even talking to any of my theatergoing pals about going with me.  I just had to get a ticket asap.  Last night was FINALLY the night I saw what's being billed as "The Signature Plays."  As I was sitting in the theater, waiting for the plays to begin, I texted a handsome chum, with whom I probably should've consulted on when I was seeing the show.  We had a little texting exchange, after which he decided I needed to publish a bit of the exchange on my blog.  I said I would.  I don't generally tell fibs to people and I don't like letting people down, so here is that exchange:

Handsome Chum:  The whole thing is both totally professional and sort of amateurish, all in the best possible way.  A fairly thorough evening of theater from a time when thought and feeling actually mattered.
Me:  Ooooooooooooooo.

I think you can see who has the brains in the friendship between me and Handsome Chum. Moving on.  I am actually going to respond to his comment and my thoughts on the plays at the end of this post.  Because what happened AFTER the show became the show.  You'll see what I mean in a few minutes.

Generally, when I go to Signature, the crowd is pretty eclectic, but last night, the crowd was particularly, well, there's really no other word...old.  I'm guessing half the audience had seen these particular plays when they premiered in the 50s and 60s and were excited to see them again.  The other half of the audience just didn't get it.  There was a lot of "what?" "odd!" "Oh my god!" and chatter like that going on.  People started to get up and leave - the gal next to me wanted to leave during the pause between the first and second piece, but couldn't see well enough to get by so she sat back down (she did leave at intermission), and there were a couple of people who left during the third piece, one of whom just wandered around because he couldn't actually find his way out.  All this is to say when the production was over and the lights were coming up after the curtain call, the lady at the end of my row in the back was in a hurry to leave.  She was in such a hurry that she tripped and fell, heavily, down the concrete steps.  She screamed, other audience members screamed, people were yelling for the house manager, 911, the lady's husband.  The rest of us in the audience were kind of frozen and didn't know what to do.  We knew there was supposed to be a talkback after the performance so there were still a lot of people in the house.  Suddenly, you heard the woman say "I think my nose is broken!  So much blood!"  Needless to say, I didn't go over to look, but I did feel as if I needed to stay to make sure the woman got the help she needed.  The house manager came and sat by the woman, the husband came back in, after a bit we could finally hear the sirens.  Suddenly, there was an announcement over the loudspeakers that the talkback would be in the lobby instead of the theater and could we all please leave from the same door so the paramedics could come in the other door?  It really was very surreal, which I guess was in keeping with the rest of the night.  I did stay for the talkback, which had some interesting questions and some absolutely batsh*t crazy questions, which again I guess is par for the course.  And, in keeping with the surreal quality, during the talkback the lady was wheeled through the lobby, on a stretcher, with a bandage around her head and face.  Strange night indeed.  I half expected the poor lady to ask the paramedics to stop so she could listen to the talkback...

As for the plays - I thought they were amazing.  All really crazy, off-kilter, not-entirely-completely-successful, but thoroughly mesmerizing and so worthwhile.  Directed and designed with incredible imagination, I highly recommend everyone seeing them.  These plays that mix absurdism with maybe some surrealism are rarely seen nowadays, which is sad, because they all have so much to say about the human condition and about the sadness of missed personal connection.  No one was happy with their lot in life and how they dealt with their dissatisfaction and despair was maybe one thread holding the three plays together.

First was the 15-ish-minute The Sandbox by Edward Albee.  It's an early play, and one he has described as being his only 'practically perfect' piece, but it has a lot of familiar Albee imagery in it, with the domineering mother, the milquetoast father and the horrible treatment of each other by the upper classes.  It was absurd, yet relatable, with an onstage cellist, a handsome man wearing only swim trunks who turns out to be an actor/angel of death.  Alison Fraser and Frank Wood are terrific as the oddball indifferent couple who come to the beach to wait for Grandma (played with delicious pluck and satire by Phyllis Somerville) to die in the sandbox.  Witty, acidic and totally odd, The Sandbox is a great way to start the evening.  (the photo above is by Caitlin Ochs.  I'm having photo link issues at the moment, sorry.)

After the curtain falls on this first short piece, we see a projection that tells us we're having a "nine minute pause."  The house lights come up a bit and an actor comes out carrying a radio, which is playing a lovely opera aria.  We're listening, along with the actor, and he decides to change the station.  Repeatedly.  In a perfect little divertissement between scenes, we're left listening and wondering what kind of music comes next and what the heck is going on, which is the perfect lead-in for the next piece.

I have read most of Maria Irene Fornes' plays but I've never seen one performed live.  I was very excited to see Drowning in this evening of one-acts.  The curtain raises to an industrial-looking room, maybe a factory cafeteria?  There are two beings sitting at a table - are they human?  Animal?  They have very large, misshapen heads and their appearance makes you feel off-kilter.  They speak and move very slowly, but we begin to understand that although they look different, they're just like us. They want to be loved and respected for who they are and have a hard time finding that affirmation outside of these walls.  The actors are just heartbreaking - Mikeah Ernest Jennings plays the more naive being and his pain and pathos are so moving.  He sees a woman in a newspaper and falls in love with her; off-stage during a scene change, she rejects him and breaks his heart.  This play is full of beautiful imagery and unexpected dialogue - they speak so slowly that your brain automatically tries to come up with a reply and what I kept thinking was nowhere near what came next.  I loved that.  I never knew what would happen or be said next.  This may have been the hardest play to experience, but it was fascinating all the same.  (photo above is by Monique Carboni.)

After the intermission, we were treated to the third piece, Funnyhouse of a Negro, by Adrienne Kennedy.  I thought this piece was spectacularly staged and was horrifyingly, thrillingly theatrical and surreal.  It really was a funnyhouse, with mirrors and ghosts and repetition.  Our main character, called Negro-Sarah in the program, is telling us about her past and her ghosts.  She seems to relive the same nightmare over and over again, plus she is so self-loathing and is completely incapable of living inside her own skin.  This is a tough play to listen to, with lots of horrible racial epithets, but it's also mesmerizing and like a nightmare you can't stop looking at.  I was gasping throughout and although the ending is probably the only possible outcome, I was still shocked and stunned.  In the best theatrical way.  I thought it was incredible - the entire house was sort of silent and didn't know it was over until the actors came forward for the curtain call, but we were all together in a sort of hushed amazement, until the lady fell and broke her nose.  What a night.  (photo above is by Caitlin Ochs.)

It's hard to imagine these three landmark plays ever being performed together again in such a first-rate production, so I do highly recommend you get yourself over to my favorite spot, the Signature Theatre, to check them out.  And when you exit the theater, please wait for the lights to come up and use that handrail.  You never know what could happen...