The Thanksgiving Play
Reviewed by Deborah Klugman
Geffen Playhouse
Through December 6
Thanksgiving, that most American of holidays (not counting The Fourth of July), has long been shrouded in myth, perpetuated for decades by classroom images of earnest Pilgrims, helpful “Indians” and cheerful squawking turkeys. No longer, however, does it serve as an unsullied symbol of a generous, sharing national spirit. As with Columbus, who’s devolved in the minds of the “woke” from the man who discovered America to a homicidal exploiter of indigenous peoples, Thanksgiving has now been tainted by our acknowledgement of historical realities — i.e., the decimation of whole populations of Native Americans in the service of European expansion.
In The Thanksgiving Play, an overextended satire directed by Michael John Garcés at Geffen Playhouse, Native American playwright Larissa FastHorse targets not so much the old mindset, with its clueless chauvinistic clichés, but a more contemporary urban one, shared mostly by folks on the left side of the political aisle who, wary of past wrongs, try to embody the “politically correct” in everything they do and say.
Such a person is Logan (Samantha Sloyan), a high school drama teacher who’s received a pile of grants (You know right there we’re in fantasyland) to devise a holiday play for elementary schoolers themed around Native Americans. Besides her concern with respecting minorities, Logan is a passionate vegan and an outspoken feminist. Once upon a time she had wanted to be an actress, and spent six weeks in L.A. before chucking it in. Her boyfriend, Jaxton (Noah Bean), is a none-too-bright street performer and yoga instructor. The pair almost compete to establish their progressive bona fides via righteous statements and hyperbolic expressions of mutual regard.
The other local member of the team, Caden (Jeff Marlow), is a timorous elementary school teacher with playwriting aspirations, a passion for history not shared by either Logan or Jaxton, and a few grandiose notions about the time frame of the piece, which he sees as commencing with the entrance of Northern Europeans into the agricultural revolution in approximately 2000 B.C.E.
Since all three of these people are white, Logan has hired a Los Angeles–based Native American actress, Alicia (Alexandra Henrikson), to bring person-of-color veritas to the project. Alicia turns out to be a sultry bimbo whom both men gravitate toward, even as the schoolmarm-ish Logan struggles to suppress feelings of inferiority and rejection. In smug self-denial, she lectures Alicia about making accomplishment instead of appearance the foundation of her life, but Alicia shrugs and turns the tables by instructing Logan in the cultivation of feminine wiles. All three of her cast-mates obsequiously implore Alicia for insight into the Native American perspective on the holiday. When she comes out as a Valley Girl whose headshots were crafted to secure ethnic roles, they’re thrown for a loop and the entire project appears to have boomeranged. A subsequent scene involving blood and gore, improvised by the men, seems needlessly over the top.
Most of the play’s scattershot riffs are neither new nor fresh, but its targets deserve lampooning and the evening might have amused had the actors stood their ground against stereotype (implicit in the writing) instead of exacerbating it with arch posturing — which struck me as a directorial call. The outstanding exception is Marlowe (a recent addition to the cast after the original actor departed), unwavering in his funny and touching depiction of a nice but nerdy guy.
The set (Sara Ryung Clement) appropriately replicates a classroom, with touches of humor, such as a whimsical chart where students weigh in on their mood on a particular day. But Garry Lennon’s costuming of the female characters stands out for its exceptional awfulness; I can’t imagine anyone but a weirded out basket case (I don’t care how much of a repressed high school teacher she may be) wearing the outfit he’s assembled for Logan, and Alicia’s garb is a mismatch of top and bottom that no respectable L.A. actress would dare be seen in.
Geffen Playhouse, 10886 Le Conte Ave., Westwood; Tues.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sat., 3 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m. & 7 p.m.; through Dec. 6. https://geffenplayhouse.org. Running time: approximately 85 minutes with no intermission.
