Author: Ella Larsen

REVIEW: The Shadow of a Gunman

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4:00pm • Saturday, Oct. 21, 2023 • Power Center

The Druid Theatre Company’s production of The Shadow of a Gunman, from Sean O’Casey’s Dublin Trilogy, explored themes of cowardice and courage, and of action and inaction. The story takes place in a tenement during the Irish War of Independence, following Donal Davoren, a poet, and Seamus Shields, a traveling salesman. The tenement’s residents believe Davoren is an IRA gunman on the run, a tale which he does not refute because of the aura of mystery and importance it grants him. The plot reaches a climax near the end of the play, when the tenement is raided by Black and Tans (a violent British police force), eventually revealing which characters are the true cowards. 

I appreciate the way O’Casey uses pointed moments of comedy in this play to make a statement about individuals’ feigned and real courage. Davoren and Shields both make a show of their ideological commitments and their willingness to act, but when their lives or values are actually threatened, they collapse into trembling heaps. Davoren gives a great monologue about the moral superiority of “the poet,” and that archetype’s commitment to higher philosophical strivings than the majority of laborers, but we see throughout the play that Davoren has little real commitment to anything. 

My favorite character in the play is Minnie Powell, one of the tenement’s residents and Davoren’s love interest. For most of the play, Minnie is treated almost as a prop. She is the object of Davoren’s interests, and her name is used as an invocation by the other residents, warning Davoren against “degrading” attachments. However, at the end of the play, Minnie is the one who assumes the responsibility of hiding incriminating evidence from the Black and Tans, believing it belongs to Davoren. Minnie is the one who is dragged down the stairs shouting “Up the Republic,” while Davoren and Shields cower in their room hoping she doesn’t reveal their involvement. Minnie’s death brings Davoren and Shields’ puff-chested braggadocio into tragic relief, completing O’Casey’s statement about the value of action over words. 

I think there is another interesting conversation to be had about whether O’Casey himself lives up to this statement in his legacy as a poet and playwright. I don’t necessarily have the background knowledge to answer that question, but I am fascinated by the dialogue between O’Casey’s works and his stated beliefs about the role of artists in conveying messages about society, politics, and human nature. O’Casey’s work focuses on the common people of Ireland, rather than the heroes and martyrs of the nation’s conflicts. Is there a sense of elitism inherent in using one’s position as an artist to criticize the common people for their lack of heroism? I’m not sure.

 

REVIEW: The Plough and the Stars

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The Druid Theatre Company’s production of The Plough and the Stars, from Sean O’Casey’s Dublin Trilogy, raises salient questions about the nuances and cost of violence in the name of nationalism. The play captures the months preceding and during Ireland’s Easter Rising of 1916, focusing not on the “heroes” who participated in the Rising but on the common people living through the conflict, a major theme in O’Casey’s work. O’Casey eloquently portrays the tension between normalcy and wartime through the everyday lives of and relationships among his characters.

I thought O’Casey’s treatment of gender in the plays I saw was interesting. While I disliked the way Nora’s character in The Plough and the Stars was used to convey the tragedy of war by playing into stereotypes of the “hysterical” or “unstable” woman, I appreciated the way all of the female characters were endowed with strong personalities and ideologies. Even though O’Casey occasionally used these strong personalities as the punchline to jokes based on binary expectations of masculinity and femininity, they meant that each character in the minimal cast was given weight and their perspectives meaning.

While I recognize that the conflicts portrayed in the Druid Trilogy are still salient in Ireland and the Irish diaspora, for me, O’Casey’s critique of Irish nationalism and religion were a little too far out of context to feel particularly compelling. That said, the relation of the play with conflicts occurring right now elsewhere in the world left much for me to consider. The program for this production explains that after The Plough and the Stars debuted in Dublin, demonstrations against O’Casey’s depiction of the conflict interrupted subsequent stagings. I think it’s interesting how the history of the production is one of collective reckoning with the value and cost of violent conflict.

I wouldn’t argue that Ireland’s wars in the early 20th century are contextually similar to modern wars such as those in Ukraine and Palestine, but I feel that there are certain overarching themes which apply to the way we conceptualize these conflicts. For me, watching O’Casey raised the idea that one can hold and examine many ideas at once. Pointing out the costs of violent conflict needn’t be synonymous with delegitimizing a cause. Even in the heat of the moment, it is essential to create space for critical thinking about ideological causes, especially when the choices we make invoke life-and-death consequences for innocent people.

REVIEW: Joan Baez: I Am A Noise

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8:30pm • Thursday, Oct. 19, 2023 • Michigan Theater

Joan Baez: I Am A Noise is a deeply introspective documentary delving into the life of legendary folk singer and activist Joan Baez. The film navigates the intertwined themes of family history, relationships and mental health running through Baez’s experiences, weaving together an intimate picture of a public icon’s private life. 

One of the central themes explored in the film is Baez’s lifelong struggle with mental health. Using archival footage, drawings, diaries and letters between Baez and her family, the film sheds light on the alternating anomie and anguish she faced privately during the peak of her career. Baez’s candid discussions about the feeling of being “broken,” inhabited by a “darkness” she sometimes describes as “demonic” illustrate how she characterizes her own mental health. Baez uses words like “crazy” to describe herself during her son’s early childhood, conveying her feelings of failure and inadequacy as a parent during that time, as well as reflecting cultural narratives about women, motherhood, and mental health. 

As I watched the documentary, I kept thinking about how Baez’s pain might have been alleviated had mental health been less stigmatized and better understood earlier in her life. There was a sense of helplessness in the way Baez described her and her sister Mimi’s struggles to understand and live with their mental turmoil. Their experiences represent those of countless others who, even now, don’t have access to a common language to express or understand these problems. My overwhelming thought for the Baez sisters and others was, “I wish we could have cared for you better.” 

For me, one of the most intriguing aspects of the film is Baez’s exploration of childhood traumas through hypnosis. Using hypnosis, Baez identified abstract parts of her own consciousness, such as “Diamond Joan,” enabling her to piece together fragments of memories from her childhood. The documentary conveys these “parts” with some ambiguity, reflecting the tension around how Baez and her family conceptualized the process. Both Baez and her family sometimes refer to these fragments as “personalities,” elements of a dissociative identity disorder, implicitly discrediting the process with some level of “craziness.” 

I appreciate how Baez’s revelatory process challenges conventional notions of reality and what is “really real.” Baez asserts that the experiences she remembers from her childhood are no less “real” to her, even if they didn’t conventionally “happen.” This feels like a particularly valuable perspective in our present historical moment where we are constantly reckoning with past wrongs. Often, it is essential to set aside our personal reality so we can hear and empathize with someone else’s. 

REVIEW: Shoebox

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7:15pm • Wednesday, Oct. 18, 2023 • State Theater

Shoebox was a thought-provoking film that stood out for its deliberate and introspective approach to storytelling, coupled with cinematography that beautifully captured a city in transition. The story, which took place in Allahabad on the cusp of its renaming, followed Mampu as she watched her father struggle to maintain his deteriorating movie palace in the midst of a health crisis. The narrative drew me slowly and quietly into a world where local politics intersected tragically with personal daily struggles.

One of the standout features of Shoebox was its cinematography. The film took its time, offering long, meditative shots of a city in the midst of transformation. These visuals provided a vivid backdrop to the characters’ lives, showcasing the beauty and decay of the urban landscape. Allahabad itself became a character in the film, reflecting the societal shifts and economic challenges faced by its inhabitants. Each frame was a work of art, and the cinematographer’s mastery was evident in every scene.

For me, the most meaningful aspect of the film was its understated portrayal of Mampu’s struggles to care for her father against a backdrop of corrupt politics. The characters’ daily lives were punctuated by the effects of political decisions made far beyond their reach. The powerlessness of the family was palpable, and their attempts to navigate a system riddled with corruption were both poignant and frustrating. Mampu’s experience reflected that of many who had to choose between protesting the injustices dealt to them and protecting themselves and those they cared for.

One of the most impactful moments in the film occurred during a simple yet profound scene involving a pack of cigarettes. This moment of intimacy between Mampu and her father became a lens through which the family’s dynamics were clarified. It revealed the unspoken connections and tensions that existed within the household, adding depth to their characters and relationships. This subtlety in storytelling was another of the film’s great strengths, showcasing the actors’ ability to convey emotions without the need for grandiose displays of drama.

In conclusion, Shoebox was a mesmerizing and quietly powerful film that invited viewers to contemplate the intersection of personal and political challenges. Its deliberate pacing and exquisite cinematography created a sense of immersion in a world where beauty and decay coexisted. The film’s understated storytelling style allowed the audience to connect deeply with the characters. Shoebox was a masterclass in subtlety and a testament to the impact of quiet moments in cinema. It was a poignant exploration of the human spirit in the face of daunting challenges, leaving a lasting impression long after the credits rolled.

REVIEW: Guys and Dolls

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8:00pm • Saturday, Oct. 7, 2023 • Lydia Mendelssohn Theater

This Saturday’s performance of Guys and Dolls was one of the best musicals I have seen on campus. SMTD’s production staff, crew, and performers breathed life into the classic “Broadway fable” through their thoughtful and critical treatment of the 70-year-old subject matter, while remaining true to the musical’s original humor and optimism. 

First and foremost, the cast’s performance was exceptional. The actors embodied their characters with charisma and authenticity, making them relatable despite some of the more dated stereotypes. Their command over dialects transported us to the streets of New York, and their chemistry on stage gave the story’s romances real gravity that completely absorbed my attention. In particular, I was blown away by Alex Humphreys’ soprano (just like I was in last semester’s production of Rent!) in “I’ll Know” and literally all of her songs afterwards. 

I loved how the set and costume design expertly combined to craft a convincing world onstage, without visually overwhelming the talent of the actors. When the curtain rose at the beginning of the performance for “Runyonland,” the sparsity of the stage put the spotlight on the orchestra for a few well-deserved moments. An unexpected sense of excitement and anticipation overtook me as the curtain lifted a second time, revealing the blinking neon signs of Broadway and immersing me in the production’s vibrant atmosphere. 

Despite Guys and Dolls being a product of its time, based on the archetypes developed in Damon Runyon’s 1920s and ’30s stories about the New York underworld and Broadway, SMTD managed to navigate this delicate terrain with finesse. The show’s dramaturgs thoughtfully interpreted some of the more outdated themes in the show, making it relevant and engaging for a modern audience. I especially appreciated the incorporation of informational placards in the hallway, shedding light on the broader social context of the era. These additions offered audiences a deeper understanding of historical context like the LGBTQ+ scene in 1950s New York and the nascent Civil Rights Movement, adding layers of depth to the narrative we saw in the play.

In conclusion, SMTD’s Guys and Dolls was a resounding success on all fronts. The students’ dedication and talent elevated every aspect of the production, from the outstanding musical performances to the impeccable set and costume design. I was impressed by the production’s ability to breathe new life into a classic while addressing its historical context with sensitivity. 

If you haven’t yet seen Guys and Dolls, you still have the opportunity to buy tickets for this Thursday, Friday, or Saturday’s performances, and I urge you to do so! You might see me there as well!

REVIEW: Mesmerica

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5:30pm • Saturday, Oct. 7, 2023 • Planetarium and Dome Theater

Settling into the Museum of Natural History’s Planetarium and Dome Theater to experience Mesmerica was like stepping through a portal. The show, imagined by James Hood, offered an immersive sensory experience that merged mesmerizing animations with Hood’s ethereal musical compositions. Mesmerica promised to transport viewers to a realm where we could let go of our worries and find a sense of joy in the present moment, and in many ways, it succeeded.

Designed for the unique physical allowances of a dome theater, Mesmerica enveloped the audience in a hallucinatory cocoon of visual and auditory art. The show was an hour-long journey filled with kaleidoscopic, abstract animations that danced across the dome overhead, perfectly synchronized with Hood’s ambient, new-agey music.

The visuals were a symphony of colors and shapes, constantly shifting and evolving, like a dreamscape brought to life. Each animation seemed to tell its own story, inviting viewers to lose themselves in its intricate details. In my favorite animation, a sprite-like blue star led viewers out of a dark nebula until we overlooked a great mandala wrought in bronze wires. We trailed behind as the star zoomed in and out of the wires, tracing lines of glittering dust that “activated” the mandala, which turned gold and pulsed with what looked like magic. It reminded me of attending fireworks shows with my cousins when we were little, where we imagined fairies being born out of every sparkling explosion. 

Mesmerica wasn’t without its quirks. In my personal opinion, there were some places where it took itself a tad too seriously. This feeling was particularly strong during Hood’s vocal interludes, which made the presentation feel like an overworked guided meditation. While the intention of promoting relaxation and mindfulness was clear, for me, it came across as a bit heavy-handed. 

Despite this minor caveat, Mesmerica definitely delivered on its promise of providing a brief vacation from the tedium of everyday life. The show served as an invigorating escape from my current, relentless world of midterms and deadlines.

In conclusion, Mesmerica was a uniquely immersive journey into the realms of art, music, and mindfulness. James Hood’s vision, combined with the collective creativity of artists from around the world, resulted in an imaginative and inspiring experience. While it may have risked taking the mindfulness concept to the level of tackiness at some points, the beauty of the animations and the soundscape created an enchanting atmosphere that was well worth the visit.