Drama Masks: At Z Space, a flashback to the day that was much too much

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.

Personally, I could’ve done without all of last week’s apotheosis of a dead fascist. Never mind the poetic justice of a right-winger being shot by another right-winger; everyone from Guv-Gav to the NY Times painted this guy as some once-in-a-generation figure. In reality, he was a racist, misogynist homophobe who said Black women “do not have the brain processing power to otherwise be taken really seriously.”

With people losing their jobs for calling that dead bigot a dead bigot, I once again found solace in Bay Area theatre. I made 11th-hour plans to see ‘Til Death, Misfit Cabaret’s one-night-only 10^th anniversary show at the Great American Music Hall. I hadn’t seen any of their shows since they left the Alcazar Theatre and began frequent traveling. There were murmurs that this show—with its foreboding matrimonial title—would signal the end of Misfit Cabaret.

Fortunately, nothing could be further from the truth. The show was both a celebration of MC’s decade of bawdiness and a surreal satire of wedding jitters. It even featured real couples renewing their vows, and ended with hostess Kat Robichaud “marrying” the city of San Francisco. In short, neither she nor the show has any intention of leaving.

That was a relief. With the still-fresh wounds of Killing My Lobster and the soon-to-shutter Oasis still in mind, we non-conformist arts lovers constantly wonder which beloved venue or troupe will vanish from a lack of funding or embracing diversity. ‘Til Death was a reminder that when your mere existence is an act of defiance, you need to embrace that life as much as you can.

The other shows I saw kept me on my toes, too.

THE DAY THE SKY TURNED ORANGE WORLD PREMIERE AT Z SPACE

It’s no coincidence that The Day the Sky Turned Orange’s opening night (it runs through October 5 at Z Space) fell on the fifth anniversary of the titular event. It was as fine a day as any to dramatize an apocalyptic moment in the already-scary year of 2020. With half-a-decade of hindsight, it’s a fine time to ask what (if anything) has changed and what (if anything) we’ve learned. Also, there are songs.

We focus on SF teacher Amari (Nina Sophia-Pacheco), burnt out after half-a-year of Zoom classes and on-edge from recent life-changing news. She lives with her brother, QC (William I. Schmidt), whose usual jovial demeanor has been doused by his ongoing battle with long COVID. Amari’s therapist boyfriend Rayan (Roeen Nooran) is similarly feeling the strain of Zooming clients when not pondering he and Amari’s relationship. One client, high-schooler Alé (Audrey Degon), is coming to terms with their non-binary identity and a home life that’s just hanging on by a thread.

Then one day the sun doesn’t come out.

Given the 2020 setting and long COVID’s importance to the story, I—of all people—would be remiss not to mention the portrayal of the still-ongoing COVID Era. As with the-few-plays-(and-films)-that-actually-mention-COVID, this one is eager unmask its cast. Despite the fact that great masked performances are absolutely possible, everyone here discards them at a moment’s notice—even Amari, QC’s caretaker. QC’s omnipresent pain is visceral, with one of the better story elements showing how it drives him to fatalism. This may be the first time I’ve seen long COVID portrayed on stage, and it sets a good standard for how the condition should be portrayed moving forward.

Also helping is the music, which has a wonderful ‘90s hip-hop/R&B-vibe that complements each scene well. Yet, the show seems to push too hard for a happy ending. Granted, one falls in love with these characters and their struggles (Alé’s sad “I love this city…” monologue hits hard), but their resolution is a bit too perfect. What’s more, the story could have benefitted from a bit more exploration into the BLM protests, rather than relying on a few late lines from Amari. There was a lot going on that year and that day; Julius Rea’s script seems weighed down by the need to cover it all.

Since few have learned their lessons about COVID after five years, I can at least report that I wasn’t the only one masked opening night. CO² levels on my Aranet4 peaked at only 856ppm during the entire two-act, two-hour show. The mask-required performance will be on October 3, with on-demand streaming from Thu/18-October 5.

With strong performances, surreal set design, and wonderful music, The Day the Sky Turned Orange is certainly an entertaining flashback to that dreary day. It’s the trying to capture all of it at once that strains the work as a whole.

THE DAY THE SKY TURNED ORANGE world premiere through October 5. Z Space, SF. Tickets and more info here.

THE RESERVOIR AT BERKELEY REP

It’s not hard to understand why some folks find Alzheimer’s scarier than cancer. There’s no “right choice” between the two, but some people reason that the loss of mental awareness and capacity is the worse fate.

That certainly seems to be the thinking used by Josh (Ben Hirschhorn), the queer alcoholic of The Reservoir (through October 12 at Berkeley Rep). When a bender finds the NYU student waking up by the Colorado reservoir, he’s forced to finally confront the family elders he’s been avoiding. When the specter of Alzheimer’s rears its ugly head, he seems to find a parallel between his blackouts and mental deterioration. As such, he makes it his goal to help all four of his grandparents hold off that fate. Maybe he’ll sober up in the process?

Jake Brasch’s play is a great drama that wants everyone to think it’s a comedy. Don’t get me wrong: I will happily watch Pamela Reed play a no-bullshit yenta on an infinite loop, but Brasch seems to be meeting a joke quota rather than letting them organically form. Inevitably, this undercuts the drama rather than aiding it. The play doesn’t need to be a dirge, but there are too many scenes when proverbial party songs interrupt the works.

Very few of us were masked opening night. Fortunately, the HVAC in Peet’s Theatre made sure CO² levels peaked around 1,029ppm during the second act before dropping. The only mask-required performance will be the matinée on September 21.

In addition to some seizure-inducing flashing lights, The Reservoir’s flaw is that its great ensemble is forced to mug through some really dour turns. We’re meant to think they’re coping, but eventually they’re copping out.

THE RESERVOIR runs through October 12. Berkeley Rep. Tickets and more info here.

RIGOLETTO AT SF OPERA

The stars of SF Opera’s production of Rigoletto (through September 27 at the War Memorial Opera House) are set designer Michael Yeargan and Lighting Designer Justin A. Partier. Verdi’s story of the eponymous gossip-spewing jester (Amartuvshin Enkhbat) remains as uneven as ever, with great music fueling some bewildering character actions. Yet, it’s the way Yeargan and Partier’s stylish designs—which perfectly mirror the art on SF Opera program booklets—place the characters in a slightly-off world that leaves a lasting impression.

Although I was watching a stream, conductor Eun Sun Kim’s command of Verdi was spot-on. If you think there’s no bad way to do “La donna è mobile”, I could tell you stories. That’s why one appreciates how this production’s version of the canzone is worth the price of admission.

RIGOLETTO runs through September 27. War Memorial Opera House. Tickets and more info here.

INDECENT AT CENTER REP

As directed by Elizabeth Carter, Center Rep’s production of Indecent (through September 28 at the Lescher Center for the Arts) seems hit a few of the same speed bumps as The Reservoir: forcing comedy rather than letting it emerge. Perhaps this version wanted to distinguish itself from SF Playhouse’s fantastic 2022 version or there just wasn’t enough faith in the already-present comedy in Paula Vogel’s script, but the masculine cast members seem particularly prone to playing everything “big” when it’s not always called for.

Vogel’s multi-decade story of the infamous God of Vengeance remains a masterclass on how to show a vast-timeline story in a single telling without sacrificing crucial details or character depth. That both plays live by their portrayals of women may add to why the femme actors run away with the show. Still, Vogel’s story of 20^th century sexism and anti-semitism remains powerful theatre that loses none its power in this production.

There were actually a decent number of us masked at the Lescher Center on opening night. CO² levels never seemed to go any higher than 667ppm during the entire show, which isn’t bad at all.

INDECENT runs through September 28. Lescher Center for the Arts, Walnut Creek. Tickets and more info here.