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Seattle Review: Miss America and Wreck the Airline Barrier
By: Robbie Wachs Apr. 18, 2006
Miss America: A Fugue Born in 1969 (Theater Schmeater)
After Theater Schmeater's knock-out production of Catch-22, great hope was in the air at the world premiere of Josh Beerman's Miss America: A Fugue Born in 1969. Quickly into this mess of a play, excitement is replaced with confusion, irritation, and supreme boredom. Beerman introduces us to 1,001 ideas that never reach any type of satisfying conclusion. This is theater at its pretentious worst.
Beerman manages to turn Generation X into a bunch of complainers who seek an ultimate companion to fix their internet connection or deconstruct their coffee selection. A blocked writer (Jason Marr), his agoraphobic sister (Erin Knight), a porn pop-up-window slinger (Ray Tagvilla), and a handful of equal annoyances fill out this fragmented sketch. Much struggle is required to muster the tiniest empathy for anyone or anything created here. The key action promised isn't even introduced until the second half. Is an hour of character set-up necessary? There are some intriguing ideas present (alienation, loss of innocence, integrity) but everything is in desperate need of editing. Tired themes on technology are given too much focus. Beerman also masters the difficult task of making blind and deaf characters nearly unbearable. There isn't a single truly redeemable character present to hook us.
And what's with the title? Beerman doesn't bother to introduce his title character (I know, I know, it's a metaphor) until the second act, long past the point of caring. Charlie (the blocked writer) meets up with America ("my parents were hippies") at the Gen X den of iniquity (Starbucks) only to find himself in the center of a WTO (is that topical anymore?) type protest. What follows is a bunch of running, screaming, and every song with America in its title played over and over and over until the anticlimactic end. Did I mention the silver bee in a speedo? The intriguing fugue we are promised is never fully realized. The dictionary describes a fugue as:
- Music. An imitative polyphonic composition in which a theme or themes are stated successively in all of the voices of the contrapuntal structure.
- Psychiatry. A pathological amnesiac condition during which one is apparently conscious of one's actions but has no recollection of them after returning to a normal state. This condition, usually resulting from severe mental stress, may persist for as long as several months.
Does Beerman honestly expect a majority of his audience to easily decode the double/triple/quadruple meanings of his title? Too many assumptions are made throughout. You know what happens when you assume? There's also the fact that only a handful of the principal actors cast look like they were born in 1969. Or is this another hidden meaning I'm supposed to search for?
Even some of the best fringe actors in Seattle are unable to save this Miss America from losing its crown. Beerman's presentational dialogue is delivered with a rehearsed quality throughout that nicely compliments the superficiality of the text. Terrific in Catch-22, Marr is here unable to make Charlie anything more than a complaining schizophrenic. The always superb Knight must fight to flesh out Beerman's most self-important character. She doesn't win the battle. Best of the bunch are Jane May as the recently blind Molly and Lindsay Evans in a flawless ASL performance as Diane. Reliable actors are uncharacteristically lackluster. Tagavila is rather wooden as Thomas the pop-up king and Brandon Whitehead gives a peculiar performance as Mollie's husband. Gifted as this company is, there are few truthful moments to be found. Each performance seems to scream "This is important work!". This is never proven to be true.
Director Rob West's abstract direction never manages to raise the play above its many flaws. Numerous clunky scene hanges (which are often longer than the scenes they precede), Michael Perrone's confusing street set, and Wrick Wolff's repetitive sound design add to the endless list of flaws to be found in Miss America: A Fugue Born in 1969. Making your audience work is appreciated. Forcing them to struggle is not. Late into his muddy play, Beerman says something like: "You can tell a lot about a person by the coffee they order." You can learn even more from the plays they write.
Miss America: A Fugue Born in 1969 runs through May 20th at Theater Schmeater. For tickets call (206) or visit www.schmeater.org. In June, Schmeater will present the word-premiere of Vincent Delany's Kuwait.
Wreck the Airline Barrier (BROWNBOX Theatre)
If you seek a pathway to the truth, look no further than BROWNBOX Theatre's Wreck the Airline Barrier. Post-Modern Theatre at its best, Tyrone Brown has created a rich offering that rides a wild wave of emotions. This blender of a play is a plea to end frequent superiority and ignorance of the world..
Adriano Shaplin makes the plays of Sartre and Beckett look like nursery rhymes in comparison. On the surface, Shaplin's dense text may appear to be a simple attempt to offend. Blacks, whites, gays, and even dwarfs are dissected through colorful language that never attempts to remain politically correct. But Wreck the Airline Barrier is more than a string of slurs. It effectively captures the cruel judgments that race through our complex minds. The instincts we reject are put on display. The concepts Shaplin introduces are everyday occurrences presented in an extreme theatrical style. We follow three passengers as they board a plane headed towards disaster. They reveal their prejudice and fear as the inevitable conclusion nears. Shaplin proves that the mind and the heart are an inseparable pair. This is the type of theatre that creates social change.
Brown's direction is a sparkling accomplishment rare to a fringe stage. He moves his company around his skeletal scenic design that suggests a fragmented world where the rules are quite different. His actors move as a unit, breaking apart at all the right moments. Brown balances moments of extreme intensity with quiet choices that manage to maintain the same power.
Brown's decision to have black actors play white characters is inspired. This powerful choice is executed by a versatile acting company. Sharon Williams (stunning), Abdel Louis Rodriquez (heartbreaking), K.B. Mattison (ferocious), and Adrienne Green (sassy, sexy) are a cohesive ensemble. They masterfully execute Shaplin's impossible language and Brown's complex choreography. Williams is raw and honest, working the audience with frequent eye contact. Rodriquez gives a vulnerable reading that haunts throughout. His early monologue plays (as does much of the evening) like a trance. Mattison has the most extreme assignment, managing to instill fear and empathy in a single breath. As the stewardess to the three passengers, Green anchors the production with a truly mesmerizing performance.
The original score by Stuart McLeod and TRANSPACIFIC plays like a fifth character. These haunting compositions are truly thrilling. Brown is able to use the music to create a dance of sorts. Jagged, noisy, organic, and beautiful, the musical contributions effectively capture the existential nightmare that is the centerpiece of this remarkable production. Noises of descending planes and distorted voices are woven into the electronically melodic. As the characters near their demise, the score grows in intensity, hooking you into a web of disjointed yet powerful truth. Brendon Orth-Sheridan's apocalyptic lighting design is also a driving force.
BROWNBOX Theatre has made their presence fully known with Wreck the Airline Barrier. They have challenged us to examine the ignorance that creates destruction. This work will get under your skin, into your soul, and refuse to let go.
Wreck the Airline Barrier runs through April 29th at the
Top: Jason Marr and ensemble in Miss America: A Fugue Born in 1969. Photo by Rob West.
Bottom: K.B. Mattison, Abdel Luis Rodriguez, and Sharon Williams in Wreck the Airline Barrier. Photo by Justice Beitzel
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