Wednesday, March 23rd, 2016
Jack Ellis (The Man)
Kate Thulin (Tana)
Maki Borden (Debo)
William Apps ( Dothan)
Xanthe Paige (Monty)
Karen Elibacher (Aikin)
Mike Swift (Pin)
Alexandra Curran, Jack Horton Gilbert, John Paul Harkins, Artem Kreimer, Derek Christopher Murphy, Casey Wortmann (Lost Choir)
Adam Rapp (Writer, Director)
Arnulfo Maldonado (Scenic Design)
Masha Tsimring (Lighting Design)
Michael Hili & Hallie Elizabeth Newton (Costume Design)
Brendan Connelly & Lee Kinney (Sound Design)
Zach Serafin (Props Master)
J. David Brimmer (Fight Choreography)
Sarah East Johnson (Aerial Consultant)
Anshuman Bhatia (Assistant Scenic Design)
Becky Heisler (Assistant Lighting Design)
Anne Cecelia Haney (Assistant Director)
Morgan Leigh Beach (Stage Manager)
Annie Jenkins (Assistant Stage Manager)
Bradley Mead/Wiide (Graphic Designer)
We had many different conversations surrounding art in Freshman Seminar my first year in college. One of those that has stayed close to my heart and gave me many lenses to work with, is the concept of "high art" vs "low art". Ultimately, the conclusion I walked away with is that art and entertainment are so subjective that one could make a case for either, but it has groomed me to look at a piece from many perspectives. This is a lesson I've applied to Adam Rapp's "Wolf In the River". Â
I spent a few days digesting and thinking about Rapp's Wolf In The River and I've found I'm still not done. Overall, it seems the piece was having a bit of an identity crisis, which slowly reveals itself. We're lead into an intimate theater in the round as the Lost Choir surrounds us, seemingly caught in loops of their own madness. There's a dirt mound in the center of the dimly lit room which feels like an abandoned cabin. The heft of what was about to unfold on stage was literally palpable as the scent of sweat and dirt filled the air. I was handed a dirt clump by a member of the Lost Choir, which I kindly accepted and held onto and then the piece itself began.Â
The Wolf (Jack Ellis) emerges from the audience, removes his jacket, shoes and shirt, introducing himself and the narrative. He explains that we the audience are the River, "an angry, undulatin', rip-roaring' river", exposing us and our power over those in the world. The intrigue builds as Tana enters, naked, fearing for her life. As the story continues to unfold, we're introduced to Debo, Tana's love interest, her opportunity for a new life. He's her escape from poverty and ultimately, from this latch-key cult, run by Monty (played deliciously devilish by Xanthe Paige). Â
We also meet other members of Monty's cult: Aikin, the flower eating addict; Pin, the dimwitted soldier who would do anything for Tana, including undermining the dangerous Monty; and Dothan, Tana's brother, Monty's lover and Afghanistan War veteran. At this point, the show still feels very cohesive, we have the army of characters, in dire straights, narrated by a third party, the Wolf. It should be noted that Ellis' "Wolf" is out of this world, charismatic and enticing. He has the most verbose text in the piece, one could easily get bored, however, his delivery and power draw you in, hanging on every word.
Eventually, as events unfurl, there are things that stick out like a sore thumb, it's difficult to place them. The show itself is structurally sound, but the inclusion of these outstanding points made elements of the story unravel instead of elevate. Pin's sexual conquest of a blowup doll with Miley Cyrus' head for one and Monty's pop-star interlude for another. While Pin's conquest was more a follow-through of Monty's orders, it felt even odder to me when she seemed to become a version of Cyrus herself, something she supposedly hates. Monty gives way to lip syncing "When I look At You", assisted by the Lost Choir. At first I thought it was one of Aikin's flower-eating hallucinations, but it concludes with Monty approaching Dothan, as if she's been trying to serenade and woo him the whole time. We're then given a physiology lesson by the Wolf, regarding our bones, their placement and function, eventually leading to a flashback to when Tana and Debo meet.
The return of Tana from this random fever dream of events is like a salve for the soul. It's a reminder of what brought us here in the first place, but then the fever seems to spike again, as now we're given insights into Dothan and his experiences in Kabul, Afghanistan. The balance of Dothan and Tana's simultaneous flashbacks is flawless, but then gives way to a menacing, disturbing and unsettling monologue by Dothan. It's the first time Dothan speaks, it's the first time we're exposed to the madness in his own mind as he struggles to normalize through PTSD and reliving his horrendous war-time exploits. It's at this point in the play that there's a real energy shift, from the everyday madness that one may be able to escape to the inner turmoil that one could never escape. Dothan's monologue is powerfully delivered by Apps and feels as if he may have experienced it himself. One can only imagine how exhausting that role must be and it most definitely will leave you breathless, questioning the spoils of war and it's true cost.Â
Dothan's narrative is explosive and overshadows the rest of the piece from that point on. While we do return to the narrative of Tana and the Cult of Monty, we're now emotionally invested in Dothan, and one could argue, more intrigued by his journey and personage. The Wolves that seemingly rip Dothan apart beyond repair then come for Tana-- until fate intervenes.Â
It is at this time that as an audience, we're given the chance to save Tana or leave her to the wolves. In my particular performance, a gentleman from the audience stepped up and saved her, which promptly lead to a dance party where the cast then handed out snacks, kicked around balloons and celebrated. While I do think the noble choice of that man and Tana's impending happiness were most certainly worth celebrating-- it felt very disjointed. It was emotionally disconnected from all the intensity of before. Structurally the "choose your own adventure" type ending didn't make much sense since we, as an audience, weren't able to intervene or interfere at any other time during the performance. While this was an attempt at "immersive" theater, I felt it was half-hearted at best. Referencing the audience and breaking the fourth wall is different from a full immersion and participation from the audience. The use of the celebration at the end felt like abortive method to get out of a sketch there was no proper ending for. Had there been more audience participation throughout, beyond just the Wolf's recognition of our presence, it would have felt more natural. It felt as if there was a choice to be made by the creators and they didn't want to decide as they had decided on everything else.Â
At the end of it all, I'm still uncertain how to place "Wolf In the River". A case could be made that it was very "high art" and above what I was able to garner from it. Just as the case of it being "low art", disjointed and base. What I do know is, it left me feeling uncomfortable, confused, unsettled and The BATS do a stellar job with a complex and at times, emotionally intense piece that doesn't know quite what it is. Regardless of how one lands regarding this piece, its undeniably art, for art affects and moves us all, even in ways we may not like or understand.
