"Elegies" at Spots

SHOW INFORMATION: Through October 5.  Thurs - Sat at 8PM, Sun at 2PM.  Tickets and information at www.spotlighters.org or 410.752.1225.  

◊◊◊ out of five.  2 hours, 30 minutes, including intermission.  Adult language and situations.

 

A good friend of mine says that after the initial outpouring of the gifts of time and food and togetherness surrounding the diagnosis of a terminal illness, an eerie quiet surrounds the victim.  An "out of sight, out of mind" attitude takes over; perhaps it is a form of self-preservation, or maybe a dose of denial.  The AIDS crisis, which was THE headline of the '80's with its protesting and red ribbons, is a similar victim.  You don't hear so much about it anymore and the celebs aren't wearing the ribbons to the Oscars much anymore, either.  Maybe it is the false sense of security brought by the potent drug combinations which prolong and improve the quality of life for AIDS patients - it has been said many times that the "diagnosis of AIDS is no longer the death sentence it once was."  Maybe it is that what little press there is about the epidemic usually centers around the devastation it has brought to the African continent - "how sad, how far away."  The simple fact remains that AIDS is still killing millions here and abroad.  So it is more than apropos that Spotlighters Theatre is presenting Elegies for Angels, Punks and Raging Queens, a series of monologues punctuated with songs.  The piece has to do with response to another AIDS related symbol now largely forgotten - the gigantic (unfortunately) and emotionally overwhelming AIDS quilt. 

The cast of 32 actors and singers has come together to create what I think is intentioned to be a human-scale representation of the everyman quality of the quilt, though aside from some articles posted in the lobby and a few mentions early on in the performance, the quilt seems almost an afterthought in this production.  Despite the fact that the piece is as relevant today as ever - perhaps more so given the general apathy surrounding the issue - the play itself doesn't do much to rouse the rabble to take up the cause anew, and the direction by Audra Mains and Nikki Cimino doesn't do much to make it urgent, either.  

The play is clearly aiming to be controversial; the title alone suggests that.  And when it was first developed in the late 80's - that title probably provoked enough ire and righteous indignation to keep theatres full.  (Its original title, The Quilt was axed.)  I'll even go so far as to say that it was probably heralded as the gay version of Def Poetry Jam, though I believe the latter came much later than Elegies.  But time has not been kind to this piece.  Each monologue, written by Bill Russell is written in Seuss-ian style AB rhyme, with an occasional internal rhyme to mix things up.  This format does not waiver, and gives the impression of comfort of understanding in spite of the "titillating" use of obscenities to make it more edgy.  Still, back in the day, he'd have been given kudos for breaking the mold with in your face speechifying.  The content of those monologues is really the biggest casualty of time passed, though.  Over the course of 32 poems, every cliché is hit - the promiscuous party boys, the leather boys, the drag queens, the drug addicts, and the more down to earth hemophiliacs, senior citizens getting bad transfusions, and yes, a nurse, valiantly working an AIDS ward who gets it from a bad needle prick.  And of course, the expected range of emotions - anger, hatred toward all "faggots", denial and fear - come out as well.  Now, understand, I am not even remotely minimizing the content or the emotion, because clichéd or not, each and every story told here is still common, and every emotion still felt.  It is the presentation of them that gives them an odd feeling of being alternately quaint and historical.  

The 10 songs by Janet Hood, with titles like "I Don't Know How to Help You", "Heroes All Around" and "Learning to Let Go," are about exactly what comes to mind before you even hear them, and almost all of the ten numbers sound pretty much the same - sanitized easy listening.  Only two numbers, "And the Rain Keeps Falling Down" and "Spend It While You Can," offer any real weight.  The former is a somber emotional moment, while the latter a funny and completely appropriate (and unexpected) reaction to being diagnosed. 

That each monologue and song is a stand alone makes sense if each is really meant to tell the story of a separate panel on the quilt.  Even if it is not, it still makes sense as each is a story of an individual.  But little is done here to patch this quilt together, if you will, or to show that even as individuals we are all part of the same human race.  Ms. Mains and Ms. Cimino are headed in the right direction, concept-wise, having each monologist sit in a section of seats that faces the audience, filling up to overflowing by the time the evening is over.  And when connections between the varied characters are made - the drug addict openly coos her approval when another character mentions the relief that comes from using drugs, for example - the potential of the piece is fully realized.  Unfortunately, these instances are few and far between, leaving the effect of each individual making an impression but the magnitude of the whole largely ignored.  Even late in act two when a character seeks to make an activist point - the company reacts with fists air pumping while shouting "Act Up!  Fight AIDS!" - it feels both like a RENT rip-off and too little too late.  Further, very few of the actors when seated remain visibly engaged the entire time - some look decidedly bored while others are checking out who is in the audience.  Neither director helps the cause by staging nearly every poem one of two ways: either the character stands in one spot and rotates to face us, or more commonly, the actor enters, walks the perimeter until finished and sits down.  Even the songs are all staged in a similar fashion, with little attempt at making a connection being made, aside from a sad faced nod at each other or a gentle taking of hands with a pitying smile. 

I might suggest that some of the lack of urgency in the piece may also stem from the fact that a large portion of the cast is too young to understand the almost daily terror of those first "AIDS years," where the nightly news bombarded us with frightening images of sick gay men with gaping lesions, and songs of protest and unity filled the airwaves ("That's What Friends Are For" is similar - and better - than the 10 songs in the show).  The time when no one knew how the disease was transmitted or that people other than gay men could get the disease, or the panic as it was discovered in the nation's blood supply is completely foreign to many of the cast, I am certain.  They are not unlike the many teens who love RENT but don't fully grasp it because AZT breaks don't happen anymore, and now people live years with HIV.  Some weren't even born when AIDS was the news of the day. 

Still, none of this negates the fact that the piece is relevant and that there are many lessons to be learned. 

The singing quartet (under the musical direction of Michael Tan) is very well cast, and all four - Ashleigh Haddad, Troy Hopper, Nicolle Walker and Joey Frollo - sing beautifully separately and together.  None seems particularly challenged by the material, but they handle the gravity of what they are singing decently.  Reciting poetry that wants to be emotional and pertinent must be as challenging as doing a Shakespearean soliloquy.  The acting ensemble, as a whole, struggles to overcome reciting each piece like a poem, but still, several stand-out for nailing the emotion of their bit.  Among the standouts are Ryan DeVoe, Drew Gaver (in two very diverse roles),Chris Homberg, Sam Mauceri ( a very talented 14 year old), Paul Meyd, Madonna Refugia, Elaina Telitsina, Mike Trumbo, Virginia Weeks, Morgan Wright and Kristen Zwobot (who also adds her vocal styling to the funny "Spend It While You Can" number). 

That AIDS is still with us is incredibly sad, and sadder still is the general apathy that seems to pervade the cause.  Shows like Elegies need to be done to remind us all that so many lives have been touched by this horrific plague, and that so much still needs to be done.  Perhaps an updating and more varied and cohesive staging would have made this particular production less fragmented.  But the message remains that real people from all walks of life have perished.  Elegies honors them much more that any one red ribbon might suggest.

 

The Elegies logo is courtesy of Spotlighters Theatre.