Adrianne Krstansky in "Every Brilliant Thing" (photo: Maggie Hall Photography) |
Local actress Adrianne Krstansky, as the Narrator and sole performer in the play Every Brilliant Thing, now being presented by SpeakEasy Stage, has a little list, enumerating the things in life that make it worth living, as a means of communicating with her suicidally-inclined mother. It's a list that started as a defense mechanism in the eighth year of her character's life and grew, from simple material things to the more complex. Members of the audience are employed to insert occasional (mostly pre-written) contributions that not only break the theatrical fourth wall but embrace it, while essentially demolishing it. As such, it offers, for better or for worse, an unusual degree of spontaneity and improvisation, which makes it clear that no performance of the work is the same as any other. This level of reality theater could be disastrous in many an actor's hands, but this is not just any actor, but in point of fact (wait for it) a truly brilliant thing herself.
The play first saw light at a 2013 British fringe
festival, written by Duncan MacMillan and stand-up comic Jonny
Donahoe (who also performed it), eventually finding its way to these
shores in 2014, off-Broadway. The fact that it is playable by any
gender on the spectrum of life ably demonstrates its universality; on
the other hand, it also betrays the fact that we don't have much
opportunity to get to know this character. The company's Producing
Artistic Director Paul Daigneault admits in the program notes that
he's not a huge fan of one-person shows and thus has rarely presented
them. One of the reasons he chose to do so in this instance has to
have been the further choice to select as Director another renowned
actor, Marianna Bassham. It's an enlightening window into what might
be identified by the Narrator as the source of many moments of life's
mysteries, joys and wonders. Imagination, she discovers, is
fundamentally what makes life worth living.
That
all this is accomplished on a bare fully-lit (Lighting Design by Eric
Levenson) “in the round” (well, square) stage with no set and
few props to speak of, with the protagonist simply attired in gray
and black with a Twin
Peaks
shirt (Costume Design by Amanda Ostrow Mason), is all the more
astonishing; so is the abundance of wry humor. A few episodes are
heart-breaking, bittersweet and funny all at the same time, as when
the family pet, to be put to sleep, is revealed to have been named
“Sherlock Bones”; it's a moment when her seven year old psyche
learns the lesson that a loved one can become an object and thus may
be taken away forever. There could have been more allusions to such
loss or to her parents' reactions to her list (her mother never
verbally acknowledging it, her father merely correcting her
spelling), or of the briefly mentioned allusion to the “Werther
effect”, from a Goethe novel, meaning a change or “copy cat”
act brought about by interaction with a powerful artifact of pop
culture, such as the suicide of a prominent figure like Marilyn
Monroe or Robin Williams.
That both Actor and Director succeed so well in their
respective roles is a testament to their previous growth in theater,
as well as their research into how parental depression leads to what
the playwright defines as a cloud of silence (Sound Design by Lee
Schuna) hovering over a family when they are coping with mental
illness. They succeed in conveying the sadness, the guilt and the
shame felt by those who love them, while at the same time amassing a
list of brilliant things that would indeed be missed.
There
is a ironic lyric from the theme song of the television series Mash:
“suicide
is painless”. Not.
No comments:
Post a Comment