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.
It’s dangerous to get one’s hopes up these days. Even beyond likely disappointment, there’s the likelihood that hoping for a better outcome will trick you into literally and figuratively investing in it in the hopes of winning big. That’s how gamblers get addicted. There’s just as much danger in letting cynicism turn into nihilism, but how does one practice “healthy skepticism?” Perhaps taking stock of life’s little victories?
Last week, the reps at CounterPulse gave a long-awaited update on what’s been happening since they paused operations due to a labor dispute (amongst other issues). The update says that they’ve not only restructured their organization, but that they’re already planning their re-opening soon. If that’s true, it’ll mark the return of one of the few Bay Area indie theatre troupes who actually own their venue.
The announcement is still vague on how they specifically addressed the labor dispute, but it doesn’t change the fact the continued existence of a revered indie—particularly in the Tenderloin—says more about the vitality of Bay Area theatre than would any ridiculous plan to try and conjure a faux-Broadway.
Similarly, last week brought news that Oakland Theater Project is in the process of planting permanent stakes in its namesake city. Its new home at the former New Parish would be right around the corner from the Black-owned venue BAM House.
The news of both the aforementioned events was mostly confined to local theatre geeks like myself. That doesn’t change the fact that they count as wins for those of us seeking more than spoon-fed Broadway tripe; especially with federal evisceration of arts funding only exacerbating a dire situation. In fact: I write these words one week away from Election Day, where an expected “blue wave” has the White House not even trying to hide their skullduggery to stop it.
Seeing the above two theatre companies survive in spite of Sisyphean odds is inspiring, but it also triggers my skepticism. Prospective news shouldn’t be taken as an absolute. I dropped off my ballot two weeks ago (getting an acceptance confirmation last week) because I don’t take for granted what’s at stake in this election. I mention and follow the above theatres because I know how easy it is to lose them, especially without audiences. Complacency is a killer.
Ray of Light Theatre presents Once Upon a One More Time
The latest production by Ray of Light bares such a narrative resemblance to the Barbie movie that I had to look up which came first. Both were seemingly conceived and produced independently of one another, around the same time. It’s hard to ignore two shows that inject overtly-feminist ideals into outdated feminine icons by having said icons contemplate death and their own existence, eventually leading them to the real world, where they encounter the young girls who idolized them. Then again, Barbie was also parallel to the first LEGO Movie, so y’know, “modern mythology” and all that.
In any case, Jan Hartmere’s Once Upon a One More Time (through November 21; The Barbary Stage, SF) uses the music of Britney Spears to deconstruct, well, every European fairy tale appropriated by a certain Mouse House. They go through the motions of their stories on-demand for every child who opens one of their books. It’s not until a self-aware Cinderella (Majesty Pearl Scott) begins questioning the routine that a proverbial wrench is thrown into the gears. Soon, she encounters The Original Fairy Godmother (aka the OFG, Mary Kalita), who introduces her to The Feminine Mystique, and our girl with the loose slipper decides to rewrite her own story.
It’s a cute idea with a game cast at hand (making Jessica Coker the Wicked Stepmother is beyond perfect), but Spears’ songs never organically fit into Hartmere’s script. Each one, with re-written lyrics or not, feels like it’s meeting a quota rather than letting them drive the narrative. Jagged Little Pill had a similar problem, but that show at least found more convincing ways to integrate the music into Diablo Cody’s script. Once Upon…, by contrast, feels like Hartmere attempting to ad-lib an irreverent fairy tale as Spears’ greatest hits album plays in the background.
Fortunately, the CO² levels at the re-opened Barbary Stage continue to impress. Readings on my Aranet4 peaked around 1,113ppm before dropping down to 993ppm by the final bow.
As a tongue-in-cheek deconstruction of fairy tale tropes, Once Upon a One More Time feels like ground already tread. As a showcase for Ray of Light and their new digs, it’s a fine example of why this company’s takes on Broadway hits far outshine any productions touring at the big houses downtown.
ONCE UPON A ONE MORE TIME runs through November 21. Barbary Stage, SF. Tickets and further info here.
NCTC presents A Case for the Existence of God
Let’s get the obvious out of the way first: Samuel Hunter’s play may have the most misleading title since Naked Lunch. This play has no explicit connection to theology, nor is there any atheist-vs.-Bible-thumper debate. I’m at odds to recall whether there is even any talk of higher existence in the show? Rather, it can be argued that “God is the love you find” is the theme. Incredibly corny, but Hunter makes a good case for it.
For my money, A Case for the Existence of God (through November 15; New Conservatory Theatre Center, SF) is about capitalism keeping everyone in limbo: not quite hell, and constantly promising heaven. That’s how we meet our duo of single dads: white divorcee Ryan (Simon Winheld) and Black mortgage broker Keith (Tarig Elsiddig). Ryan turns to Keith, whom he knows from their daughters’ shared daycare, in the hopes of buying back family land. Keith tries to traverse the red tape, but he’s on-edge with worry that his foster daughter could soon be taken away by homophobic bureaucrats.
It’s hard to say any more without spoiling anything. Let’s just say that the system was designed to constantly remind the have-nots exactly what they don’t possess. It’s heart-breaking, watching these two give so much with so little to show for it. Fortunately, director Will Detlefsen makes the aforementioned duo fascinating from start-to-finish. Even when Hunter’s script occasionally falters (the Whale author is no more skilled at writing racial politics than he is on issues of body image), Elsiddig and Winheld turn the stage into an electric tennis court, with neither missing a shot.
CO² levels certainly weren’t the worst, peaking around 1,280ppm by the final bow.
NCTC may have produced one of the year’s best shows with A Case… Not only does the script do its best to avoid easy cynicism, but the performances of the two actors is never anything less than hypnotic.
A CASE FOR THE EXISTENCE OF GOD runs through November 15. New Conservatory Theatre Center, SF. Tickets and further info here.
