American Saga: Gunshot Medley: Part 1
Reviewed by Lara J. Altunian
Rogue Machine Theatre
Re-opened & extended through August 19
RECOMMENDED
Much of the United States’ history is dark and repetitive. Its past bleeds into contemporary times through unresolved issues regarding racial prejudice and discrimination. This zeitgeist has become a common theme for theater, which can often lead to subpar productions that undercut the topic’s power by riding on its emotional popularity without offering a new way of examining the subject.
By contrast, Dionna Michelle Daniel’s Gunshot Medley: Part 1 takes on a fresh, new, interesting and even mysterious approach to American race issues. Although the material could use a little more clarity to help its pacing along the middle, the overall effect is a solid shot to the heart and mind.
Set in “The Hereafter,” as the program describes, the plot revolves around three African Americans — Betty (Mildred Marie Langford and alternate Cherise Boothe), George (Jon Chaffin and alternate Donathan Walters) and Alvis (Derek Jackson) — dressed in late 1800s period clothing and trapped in an old Carolina graveyard at dusk where they are tasked with different jobs.
A woman dressed in a long, red gown is permanently present on stage, overseeing the interactions that take place between the three. Labeled in the program as the High Priestess of Souls (Sha’Leah Nikole Stubblefield), she is often referenced as “the wind” by the characters who hear her singing messages to them about change, love and sorrow. Her songs influence George to decide to “go back” (a concept never fully explained, but interpreted to mean “back to Earth”) to help others, while giving the rest the strength to carry on living in their limbo, struggling and fighting to forget their pasts in order to endure a happier existence.
This task seems impossible as anonymous gunshots paired with flashing white and red lights (design by Tor Brown) startle the three halfway through their conversations. The source of the shots is never revealed, but their disturbance causes Betty to writhe with pain every time, quickly forcing her back down on her hands and knees to continue cleaning an unseen mess à la Lady Macbeth. Her bouts are constant, frequent and only understood at the end of the play in a heart-wrenching conclusion that could have seemed forced and kitschy, had it not been for the production’s build-up to its final moment.
Stubblefield’s singing is smooth, gorgeous and melodic, lulling the listeners, both onstage and beyond the fourth wall, into realms of serenity, emphasizing deep heartbreak and incomparable joy. Similarly talented is Jackson, as the complicated goofball who dances, sings and shakes Betty out of her somber moods long enough to help her remember the pleasant side of life. Walters is powerful as the strict and serious spirit whose restlessness floats between anger and dreamy desires to coax and inspire those around him. Langford’s maternal Betty is warm and tragic. As the de facto main character, viewers spend the most time getting to know her background and understanding her attitude.
As strong and well-defined as the characters are, the play is nowhere near a masterpiece. Some of its mystery comes off as unnecessary vagueness that doesn’t quite add to the ending presented. Desean Kevin Terry’s solid direction keeps the play moving through the more bogged down moments in the middle. What helps the slow pacing along the most however, are the three live instrumentalists (Crissy Joyce on violin, Ann Polednak on guitar/banjo and Gerald C. Rivers on djimbel/African conga) who help add the right touch of ambience to emphasize the play’s subtly shifting mood. Priti Donde’s set design gives them a specter-like presence by placing them behind tall tombstone-shaped canvas dividers that light up and briefly illuminate their silhouettes when they play their music.
Overall, it’s a memorable piece that addresses time, history and the pain of remembering the past, especially when we consider how little has changed over the years.
Rogue Machine at The Electric Lodge, 1416 Electric Ave., Venice; Sat.-Mon., 8 p.m.; re-opened & extended through Aug. 19. (855) 585-5185 or www.roguemachinetheatre.com. Running time: 75 minutes with no intermission.
