Drama Masks: Performative politics

This is Drama Masks, a Bay Area performing arts column from a born San Franciscan and longtime theatre artist in an N95 mask. I talk venue safety and dramatic substance, or the lack thereof.

THE BOILING WORLD PREMIERE AT MAGIC THEATRE

Like many wonderful San Franciscans, I spent the early part of this past Saturday at the Civic Center for the SF edition of the Hands Off! national protests. As reassuring as it was to see such a great turnout in my hometown, the lack of Palestine-specific representation rubbed me the wrong way. And my breaking point came when I saw the stomach-churning face of Scott Wiener waiting to speak. For me, this wasn’t just “weird” (as Tim said in the above link)—it was downright offensive.

Wiener’s the guy who probably read Ezra Klein’s new book the way most folks read Anaïs Nin; the guy who saw Guv Gav give burner phones to tech CEOs and no doubt thought, “Why didn’t I think of that?”; the guy who’s happy to see pro-Palestinian protestors being deported after he openly celebrated camping students being beaten by cops just for saying “Free Gaza!”

The moment he took the stage, I left—his presence was as hypocritical as having Chris Brown and Mel Gibson speak at a Women’s March.

I was specifically hoping the play I saw at Fort Mason that evening would scrub the disgusting sight of Wiener from my mind. I… kinda got what I wanted?

I went into the boiling (world premiere runs through April 20 at Magic Theatre) knowing that playwright Sunhui Chang and director Ellen Sebastian Chang (no relation) would wear their love of cinema on their sleeves. After all, the latter told me how the script began as a 2020 shelter-in-place screenplay. Indeed, the story is so prone to flashbacks and expository titles that one almost expects a studio logo to precede the action.

Said action involves two inspectors (John Brougher and Edris Cooper-Anifowoshe) from an unnamed agency tracking down a highly infectious patient (Lawrence Radecker) during a pandemic. We also meet the latter inspector’s military daughter (Markaila Dyson) and a young man (Jesse Vaughn) whose journey south has somehow taken him both to and away from home, where he learns the intricacies of bird-watching through an elderly mentor (Donald E. Lacy Jr.). There’s also one woman (mezzo Jeannine Anderson from Hailie) who acts as a singular Greek chorus, existing within and out of the narrative.

In terms of style, the intermission-free show is magnetic. Carlos-Antonio Aceves’ detailed bookworm set (occasionally punctuated by Joan Osato’s projections) always command one’s attention. Furthermore, the way Chang (the director) integrates the action in-and-out of the surroundings is never less than captivating.

The problems lie in the substance, or lack thereof. Despite all of the characters being revealed as connected at the conclusion, neither they nor their actions have that feeling. Everything feels like a disparate collection of scenes introduced by time-stamped title cards (which most of the audiences couldn’t even see—nearly everyone around me kept leaning forward, asking the person next to them what they said).

Our occasional glimpses into these characters’ lives are fascinating, but they remain strangers by the end. What’s more, the infected man commits so many acts of pure evil throughout the show that a final-act stab at redemption rings hollow.

His appearance is the only time we see anyone in a mask during this “pandemic” play. Director Chang also staged the captivating Josephine’s Feast, set squarely in 2020 SF, with a cast members in masks. Though no year is named in the boiling (a reference to the skin-boiling symptom of the unnamed virus), we’re supposed to be well into the show’s pandemic with nary a mention of shelter-in-place or any other safety measures. It’s no wonder the infected character does his job so well when no one around him seems to be taking any safety measures.

There were probably more protective measures being taken by the audience (including me in my Flo Mask), but even then, by only about five of us out of a full house. CO² levels on my Aranet4 hit 1,677ppm by the final bow (not the highest I’ve seen at the Magic) and it felt as if both the show and the venue had quickly forgotten how the pandemic terrified us all—especially those of us who realize that it never ended.

THE BOILING world premiere runs through April 20. Magic Theatre, SF. Tickets and more info here.

IZZARD HAMLET: SAN FRANCISCO AT THE ACT STRAND

Izzard Hamlet: San Francisco (through April 20 at the ACT Strand Theater) isn’t a one-person play so much as an inside joke. The incomparable performer Eddie Izzard committed the majority of Shakespeare’s longest text to memory for a two-act show (each act around 90 minutes) that seems to be a rebuttal to Tom Stoppand’s 15-Minute Hamlet. The latter had The Bard’s long-winded text whittled down to its bare bones (and then again with its five-minute follow-up) in manner both reverent and satirical. The former features a dynamic talent saying the most word-ridden play of the great canon as if she’s doing so on a bet.

I say “most” because if you know Hamlet as well as most of us do (again, this show is an inside joke), then you can tell when Izzard wisely drops things like the ethnic slur for Polish people or the just-sounds-offensive line “Niggard of question…”. Izzard is no less electric than she’s ever been, but her opening-night performance (the first stop on a planned tour) came off more like someone trying to explain the play to someone who’s never seen it. You never forget it’s Eddie Izzard, is what I’m saying. If that’s enough to get you hooked, then I can’t say that you’ll be disappointed.

CO² levels on my Aranet4 hit 1,677ppm, noticeably higher than the usual levels at the Toni Rembe, which I found curious, given how the Strand was a new renovation. As always, I was one of the few masked.

IZZARD HAMLET: SAN FRANCISCO runs through April 20. ACT’s Strand Theater, SF. Tickets and more info here.

VAN MANEN: DUTCH GRANDMASTER BY SF BALLET

If someone goes into Van Manen: Dutch Grandmaster (through April 19 at the War Memorial Opera House), they’ll pick up this much about the eponymous choreographer: he likes to have fun dancing. Over the course of four of his popular pieces—Grosse Fuge, Variations for Two Couples, Solo, and 5 Tangos—the hoofers of SF Ballet fluctuate from classical style to modern, with a bunch of silly movements thrown in for good measures. (Been a while since I’ve seen someone “bobblehead” on stage.)

Even the fact that the pieces were staged by seasoned dancers like Ricardo Bustamante suggests more of a “lark” production on a large scale (designs by Keso Dekker and Jean-Paul Vroom are hypnotic) without having the worry about the proverbial “baggage” of one of the more revered ballets. That isn’t a knock against Van Manen, but rather a compliment on how a collection like this makes stodgy-seeming works like ballet more accessible to those who’d dismiss the art form.

There were more masks than I was expecting for this near-full Sunday matinee, but there still weren’t very many. Befitting the War Memorial’s excellent HVAC, CO² levels on my Aranet4 peaked around 713ppm during the two-hour show. That was a relief: given the amount of fun one has watching the show, the ability to keep oneself safe is, mercifully, one less thing to worry about.

VAN MANEN: DUTCH GRANDMASTER runs through April 19. War Memorial Opera House, SF. Tickets and more info here.