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Showing posts with label Emily Hartford. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Emily Hartford. Show all posts

Sunday, June 14, 2026

Fear & Wonder

The romance at the center of the Flux Theatre Ensemble's new show Fear & Wonder juggles coming-of-age issues, religion,  homophobia, hypocrisy, and deep, deep love in a story that is thought-provoking, heart-breaking, and lovely. 


Jabez, an Asian-American teen from Washington, DC, and Ryan, an African-American teen from Tampa, FL, are assigned to be roommates at a National Christian Youth Leaders Conference. Jabez comments, "They stick the one Asian and one Black guy in the same room." Jabez is full of questions about religion; Ryan is a true believer. They spar, they bristle, they end up friends and maybe more. Jabez and Ryan manage to maintain something of a friendship for years, mostly through Saturday afternoon phone calls when Ryan's parents aren't home. 

There aren't surprises here, but it doesn't matter. These characters, these interactions, these developments are so well-written, well-acted, and specific that the story is new, fresh, and deeply involving. 

In addition to being a romance/coming-of-age story, Fear & Wonder is a play of ideas. As Jabez and Ryan grow closer, they continue to debate their disagreements about religion. They both have much to say, and the discussion are engaging. 

Fear & Wonder's writing, by Jason Tseng, and direction, by Emily Hartford, are smooth, earnest, and heartfelt. But their biggest contribution may well have been casting Brian Tong as Jabez and Neil Tyrone Pritchard as Ryan. Both men are intense, smart, subtle, and physically adept. Most importantly, they have real chemistry together, and both are able to hide their feelings from themselves but not the audience. Brian Tong is Jabez down to the way he expresses his joy physically. Neil Tyrone Pritchard is so fully present as Ryan that when he sweats, he wipes it away in character. Pritchard turns a handkerchief into an expressive prop. 

Here's where I'd usually write my positive summation paragraph, but I did have one problem, one major problem, with the show. Fear & Wonder is enveloped, intertwined, and interrupted by an ongoing religious service that is too long and too religious, and adds too little to the show. Although the lobby of Fear & Wonder focuses on spirituality as an open idea for everybody/anybody, the service is clearly focused on Jesus. The audience is more than invited to join the service; Tonia E. Anderson, who plays the minister (quite effectively), sents up call-and-response moments right out of a church service.

As an ethnic-Jewish atheist I felt unpleasantly preached at. When the minister said, "God is good," she expected people to respond, "All of the time." I simply didn't respond, which was fine, but I was annoyed because I had come to see a show, not to go to church. (And, if there is a God, I find it impossible to believe that God is good all of the time. And certainly not both good and all-powerful. I mean, take a look around.)

(My favorite depiction of God comes from, if I remember correctly, a story by Elie Weisel. A human gets the opportunity to speak to God and talks about how awful the world is, how terrible people are, how bad the human feels. God answers, "If you're so disappointed, how do you think I feel?")

I do understand how the service meshed with the teens' story, but it could have done so in a fifth of the time. Also, the teens' story was presented in a broken chronology that was sometimes difficult to follow. I believe that the same show, but with considerably less preaching and with clear chronology, would be much more effective than it is now--at least to non-Christians. 

Though, yes, the show is quite good now.

(Two quick points: (1) Will Lowry's smart, practical set is a pleasure to look at. (2) I have always found gay art presenting Jesus as a sex object to be odd. Fear & Wonder clarified how that might happen, with great humor.)

Wendy Caster 

Monday, March 11, 2019

Operating Systems

I've had a challenging and satisfying few hours chewing on the ideas and questions posed by Gus Schulenburg's new play Operating Systems, which I saw this afternoon. The description of the piece on the Flux Theatre Ensemble's web page includes this:
Operating Systems wrestles with how internalized oppression often makes us reinforce oppressive systems even as we work toward justice. In a tokenizing system that often positions oppressed peoples against each other, can the relationships at the heart of the play survive? Is it better to leverage the resources of these systems in service of justice, or to burn the whole thing down? 
These are fascinating and important questions that couldn't be more timely. (In fact, while walking to the theatre, my niece and I chatted about Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, with my niece ready to have AOC "burn the whole thing down" and me hoping that AOC will work more within the system.)

Morgan McGuire, Lori Elizabeth Parquet
Photo: Justin Hoch
In Operating Systems, Code Breakers is a not-for-profit organization (with an emphasis on not, per its CEO Benita) that teaches code to high school girls of color. Originated by dot-com whiz Stephen (think Bill-Stephen-Gates-Jobs with a drinking problem), Code Breakers fights the good fight. But when alumn Bel returns there to teach, ugly secrets are revealed.

Sunday, May 13, 2018

The Sea Concerto

Before the Internet, daily-newspaper theater critics would see shows on opening night and write their reviews immediately after. Although these reviews often determined the fate of the show, the critics barely had time to think about what they had seen before their deadlines.

Morgan McGuire, Corey Allen
Photo: Isaiah Tanenbaum Theatrical Photography

This is on my mind because I saw Flux Theatre Ensemble's new play, The Sea Concerto, last week, and I'm still not 100% sure what I think about it. I've considered it at length, and I've read the script as well, but I'm still not sure. Also, it's possible I didn't understand everything.

Saturday, June 04, 2016

Rizing

The setting is familiar: a 12-step-program-type support group. A woman stands, says, "Hello, my name is Mica, and I'm Z-positive," and everyone else says, "Hi, Mica." Does "Z-positive" perhaps remind you of "HIV-positive"? It's supposed to. The Z stands for zenoplasmosis, an infectious agent that turns people into zombies in "post-zombiepocalypse America." Does the "zeno" remind you of "xeno," as in "xenophobia"? It's supposed to.

Rahn, Lathon, Spielmann, Sanyal, Aulisi
Photo: Isaiah Tanenbaum

Jason Tseng's Rizing, directed by Emily Hartford and presented by the fabulous Flux Theatre Ensemble, exists as both an entertaining zombie drama and a less successful allegory for the treatment of HIV-positive people and (from the playwright's note in the program) "other people marginalized and oppressed by our hegemonic society: communities of color, Muslims, immigrants and refugees..."