Review: THROW ME ON THE BURNPILE AND LIGHT ME UP at Round House Theatre

In the most trying of times, the Round House Theatre has managed to put together a pretty remarkable season, entirely online but leaning on one-person showcases that eliminated the need of distancing among cast members.

They perform on fully dressed theater sets (instead of a Zoom window), before a minuscule audience, either to bolster the actor or provide laughs in the spaces needed.

As with previous offerings this season, the streamed presentation of Lucy Alibar's "Throw Me on the Burnpile and Light Me Up" begins with the few audience members, in masks and face shields (and sometimes masks and face shields) entering the lobby and getting their tickets torn. Just 10 people were allowed to see Beth Hylton's performance live for the two performances filmed last month.

But expertly filmed and edited by Maboud Ebrahimzadeh, it's still possible to immerse oneself into the detailed and textured tale of a fourth grader finding her way in the Grady County, Georgia, on the Florida line, where her father has the thankless job of defense attorney, standing up for death row defendants who have nobody else.

Alibar's tale brings to mind Scout Finch, the young narrator of Harper Lee's "To Kill a Mockingbird," of course. But Alibar has previously shown her skills in conjuring up the rich detail and sometimes mysticism of the swampy region through the eyes of a child, in her one-act "Juicy and Delicious," which she helped adapt to become the 2012 Oscar-nominated film "Beasts of the Southern Wild."

The recollections of "Burnpile" are from a grownup's perspective, who is able to sink deeper as she goes along into the character of the fourth grader Lamby, her colorful family and the rural surroundings. For the latter, we don't have to rely entirely on Hylton's narration; the campfire set alongside a swamp is beautifully reproduced by scenic designer Paige Hathaway and subtly lit by Harold F. Burgess II to shift from the orange sky of daytime to the rich purples of evening.

But Hylton with just the right drawl from the start is a tour-de-force throughout, animated enough to keep your attention but deep enough to pause occasionally for the deep drama. I'm always dazzled by the ability to deliver an entire play single-handedly from simply the memorization of the text, let alone maintaining a character throughout, while occasionally embodying a growing cast of family, friends, frenemies, animals, teachers and townspeople.

Alibar creates a whole world with her words and Hylton, under the direction of Round House artistic director Ryan Rilette, delivers it. Only some strains of sound designer Mattnew M. Nielson's down-home slide guitar and some sound effects are heard beside the narrative (though we hear a bit of the George Jones and Sam Cooke songs young Lamby recorded on cassette for prisoners). The tapes, like the casework, are all to end up on the burnpile in the plays's title, along with family furniture and various detritus becoming ashes and smoke signifying nothing, leaving little for history.

The the voices of the South and the remembrances of Lamby through the work of Alibar and here by Hylton make them vividly alive as the region still struggles through its violent and racist past (and death penalty cases continue).

As we approach a time when theaters are about to reopen, we should keep in mind how skillfully Round House adapted to take us through a tough time with such quality work delivered so well.

There's one more one-person show to come this season, though: Young Jean Lee's "We're Gonna Die," with Regina Aquino June 14- July 11.

Running time: Approximately 95 minutes, no intermission.

Photo credit: Beth Hylton in "Throw Me on the Burnpile and Light Me Up" at Round House. Photo by Harold F. Burgess II.

"Throw Me on the Burnpile and Light Me Up" continues streaming from the Round House Theatre through May 30. Closed captioning is available. Tickets and information are available online.

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