Jim Lichtscheidl, Kayli Carter, Mark Rylance & Louis Jenkins in "Nice Fish" (photo: Evgenia Eliseeva) |
A work of ART can be a prose poem, as illustrated by
their current production, “Nice Fish”, a collaborative work of Louis Jenkins (whose
conversational poems are acted out) and actor Mark Rylance (who twice
delivered them in Tony-winning acceptance speeches). Imbedded in
prose form, Jenkins' writings are hardly prosaic, though they could
easily be unrecognized as craft. They splendidly capture the dialogue
of Minnesotans, whose isolation in a cold climate often gets
expressed in non sequiturs. The play is compiled from more than five
hundred poems rather like a jigsaw puzzle. As a prose poem is not
really a poem, at least in form if not in content, so this production
at first doesn't appear to be a play. On the surface, two men meet
once every year on the last day of ice fishing season, searching for
something deep enough to swallow them, a bit on the edge, in vast
inward and outward space, imagining something swimming just beneath
the surface. As the fourth wall thaws, so does the frigidity of
normally accepted speech, with its inflexibility and unequivocal
definitiveness, as described by Flo (the kooky Kayli Carter) the sole
female in the cast, which includes three ice fisherman, Ron (the
remarkable Rylance), Wayne (the witty Jenkins) and Erik (the
comically laconic Jim Lichtscheidl), and an unnamed Natural Resources
rep (the hysterical Bob Davis), all voicing, individually and
collectively, Jenkins' views of “neighboring” one another,
ultimately creating a sort of dynamic solidarity.
While creating poetry is solitary, a surreal play like
this is much more of a communal effort, like a quilt stitched
together from treasured remnants. This is exemplified by a cast whose
take on Midwestern deadpan dialect is flawless, under Claire van
Kampen's well-timed direction, her own music compositions like the
sound traveling across a frozen lake. Then there are the creatively
crazy settings by Todd Rosenthal, gloriously goofy costuming by Ilona
Somogyi, illuminatingly lively lighting by Japhy Weideman and
resoundingly ominous creaking and groaning sound by Scott W. Edwards,
all coming together into an eventually coherent, terrifically
entertaining whole that in the end requires the final crucial
collaboration with an audience. As Rylance states in the program, an
effort such as this lives or dies in the imagination and senses of
the audience; thus in this free form poem, you are expected to take
active part in this experience to enjoy fully this wonderfully
imaginative work.
Even before the play begins, it is announced that “what
happens in Minnesota leaves Minnesota” and we are urged to “kindly
rely on the strangeness of others”. As the work closes, we will
have been treated to polkas, dry and wry Pinteresque pauses,
blackouts and vignettes. It's theater of the absurdly hilarious (e.g.
“the road never snowplowed”) as the characters ice fish and hunt
on a lake full of ingenious streams of unconsciousness. It becomes
self-referential as the play features verbal signposts throughout,
though “there is no message”, and a prospective audience member
is depicted decrying that “”there's no plot” or “I didn't get
it”. As one character puts it, there's gravity and then there's
seriousness. This is, in the end, (and what an imaginatively ending
it has!) just over ninety minutes of wild and wondrous language.
There is but one logical sequela: do go down that rabbit hole; it's a
wintery wonderland. See it!
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