historical

Bradbury Center hosts one hell of a show

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By John Lyle Belden

Emmy winner and Ray Bradbury superfan Bill Oberst Jr. has portrayed many characters who reflect the darkness within mankind; in his new one-person show, “Adversary,” he takes on the Devil himself.

Presented as part of the IU Indianapolis Ray Bradbury Center “Festival 451 Indy,” Oberst’s performance in the District Theater, Sept. 30-Oct. 1 is the world premiere. (If you are seeing this as it is posted, you may be able to make the 2 p.m. Sunday show.)

Satan, who enjoys toying with the words of others, regards himself through sources ranging from ancient scripture to Mark Twain. Oberst contributes one piece, “Your 3 A.M. Therapist.” Mr. Bradbury is not quoted, though this suits the literary mission of the festival, and Oberst said in a follow-up Q&A that Bradbury’s character of Mr. Dark in “Something Wicked This Way Comes” was an inspiration – one of the better depictions of the Devil in fiction.

“Here we hear lies; here we hear truth,” the entity before us declares. “The devil is in the distinction.”

He focuses on three principal “true lies” that sound good and right but are bendable to darker purposes. Passages such as Fyodor Dostoevsky’s “The Grand Inquisitor,” from “The Brothers Karamazov,” show their application.

It is sometimes said that a work of theatre challenges you in the audience. This one literally does. Old Scratch knows you are watching and speaks to you through the ephemeral fourth wall. Do you answer? Regardless, there is plenty of food for thought here – dine with care.

“Adversary” is a unique, engaging, and in its own dark way enlightening theatre experience. For more information on Oberst and his projects, visit billoberst.com; click here for the Ray Bradbury Center in Indianapolis.

BCP presents charming ‘Memoirs’

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By John Lyle Belden

The legendary Neil Simon’s semi-autobiographical “Eugene plays” hearken to a nostalgia for a time that came before our time, yet feels familiar. The comedy “Brighton Beach Memoirs,” now on stage at Buck Creek Players, adds the tensions of Jewish life in the 1930s and the issues of being a teenager in any era.

Eugene Morris Jerome (Dylan Acquaviva), our 14-year-old narrator, obviously didn’t make the Yankees later in life, as he fervently wished, because otherwise he wouldn’t become a writer and we wouldn’t have this story. This is one of many frustrations that he details in this surprisingly dramatic look at two important days in his young life.

The Jerome house, headed by overworked father Jack (Jeremy Tuterow) and ever-worried mother Kate (Barb Weaver) has made room for her widowed sister Blanche (Letitia Clemons) and nieces Laurie (Quincy Carman) and 16-year-old Nora (Brooke Dennis), whose physical development Eugene can’t help but notice. With the girls in one upstairs bedroom, Eugene bunks with his older brother Stanley (Tallon Wynne) in the other.

The family members’ good nature and guarded optimism are their bulwark against the otherwise crushing stresses of their lives – money always short, young people acting impulsive, the spectre of various diseases (one of which claimed Blanche’s husband years ago), and the constant news from Europe in the papers as well as letters from family facing oppression as the Nazis expand their influence. Thus we both laugh and feel their pain, sometimes simultaneously, as only Simon can make us do.

Acquaviva balances his naïve nature with growing maturity to come off as a rather likable scamp. Wynne and Dennis deliver the complexity of putting up brave fronts while never sure if they are doing the right thing. Carman gets to play spoiled without being too bratty. Clemons has Blanche appear to enjoy a comfortable place in the household, yet her simmering guilt at imposing on the Jeromes never lets her fully relax. Weaver gives us a Mom whose love language is constant complaining, while Tuterow makes Jack a lower-middle class Atlas, shouldering the world as best he can with a wry smile on his tired face.

The director is Jim LaMonte, who also designed the nicely functional set with Tuterow. Chris Becker is stage manager. Also appreciated is Adrienne Reiswerg’s help as dramaturg and advisor on details of Jewish life.

A hilarious and heartwarming story, “Brighton Beach Memoirs” runs through Oct. 8 at the Buck Creek Playhouse, 11150 Southeastern Ave., Indianapolis (Acton Road exit off I-74). Get tickets and info at BuckCreekPlayers.com.

IRT gives life to the monster, and the woman who created him

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By Wendy Carson

While all of us are familiar with Mary Shelley’s story, “Frankenstein,” in one way or another, none of us truly know her full intentions in bringing the tale to life. The Indiana Repertory Theatre’s current production of the drama adapted by David Catlin strives to shed light on suppositions scholars have given over the years as to Shelley’s various metaphors and allusions within the text.

The play opens on the fateful night in 1816 when Mary Godwin (not quite Shelley yet, played by Rebecca Marie Hurd), Percy Shelley (Ty Fanning), Lord Byron (Nate Santana), Dr. Polidori (Terry Bell), and Claire Clairmont (Andrea San Miguel) gathered on a stormy night in Switzerland, engaged in a competition of storytelling. While hesitant as first, Percy’s condescension of a mere woman’s abilities causes Mary to join (and ultimately win) their little game.

As she begins to weave her story, the group joins in acting out the narrative. This brings about a more light-hearted feel to the tale but does not detract in the slightest from the horrors held within. It also brings about a glimpse into exactly what was happening in the historical context that influenced some of the prose.

Hurd is sheer perfection as our titular heroine and tale-spinner, showing the depth of the woman behind the monster. She also brings forth the heart-wrenching feelings of love and struggle of Elizabeth, Doctor Frankenstein’s adopted “more than” sister and betrothed.

Fanning brings Percy Shelley’s failed attempts at dominance to life while also reminding us of his vulnerability and desires. He perfectly embodies Victor Frankenstein’s obsessive delusions and selfishness that ultimately lead to his own downfall.

San Miguel avidly encompasses the characters thrown at her (often quite literally) with a gamely attitude while never betraying that she is almost a footnote in the whole event. She channels Frankenstein’s Mother’s love and devotion beautifully.

Bell shows the true gentleman of Polidori, defending Mary’s rights and fighting off the testosterone-laden nay-sayers (again, sometimes literally) who seek to squelch its continuance. His turn as Henry, Frankenstein’s best friend, befits his caring nature. He also plays the ship’s captain who bookends the narrative.

Santana emulates the rakish self-importance with overwhelming charisma that Byron was known for. He also does an amazing job as the Creature, showing us the frustrated loneliness felt by one who suffers in vain to understand why everyone reviles him.

In director Risa Brainin’s notes on the show, she hints at the question that is often asked upon experiencing the story, “Who is the true monster here?” Go to the IRT and decide for yourself.

“Mary Shelley’s ‘Frankenstein’” runs through October 14 on the main stage at 140 W. Washington St., downtown Indianapolis. Get info and tickets at irtlive.com.

NAATC keeps high standard with run of ‘Detroit ’67’

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By John Lyle Belden

The Naptown African American Theatre Collective (NAATC) is taking its slogan, “We Don’t Follow the Trends, We Are the Trend,” seriously.

Indianapolis’s first Black Equity theatre company, the 501c3 nonprofit organization is dedicated to diverse employment and speaking to the Black experience in all its forms. It also means to make its presence known and felt with excellent productions by great Black talents.

Dominique Morisseau is quickly rising to be a name listed among great playwrights who tell the American story with all its hard truths, names like August Wilson (whose “Ma Rainey’s Black Bottom” is up next for NAATC) or even Tennessee Williams. A strong qualifier for the play that is her “Fences” or “Streetcar” would be “Detroit ‘67” – her second produced play, it roars through the tragic side of American culture on all cylinders, carrying with it an interesting mix of relatable characters who find the American Dream a nightmare, and no good deed unpunished.

NAATC’s recent production of “Detroit ’67,” directed by D’yshe Mansfield at the Phoenix Theatre Cultural Center, was a superb showcase of local talent. Set in a neighborhood where racial tensions and police brutality lead to widespread riots (now nearly forgotten, but at the time serious enough to call out the National Guard), we see everything from the relative safety of a residential basement. It’s the house siblings Chelle (LaKesha Lorene) and Lank (Ennis Adams, Jr.) inherited from their parents, along with a modest bank account. They understand how truly lucky they are to be Black homeowners at all, but money is tight, and to make ends meet the downstairs is a literal underground after-hours “Party” spot, where those who don’t want to risk police encounters at bars and clubs can enjoy some drinks, music, and the company of friends.

Their friend, Sly (Daniel A. Martin) has an inside line on getting him and Lank a legitimate neighborhood bar, but Chelle is afraid of touching their saved cash for fear of losing it all, especially with the White powers that be all to willing to strike down any Blacks who assert themselves, even legally. Ever on hand is Chelle’s best friend Bunny (portrayed by Dena Toler or Kelly Kel, depending on performance), whose flirty, fun style masks her practical sense.

Further complicating things is Caroline (Sara Castillo Dandurand), a mysterious white woman rescued by Lank from being left for dead in the street. Her mere skin tone spells trouble, but nothing like the secrets her true identity holds.

Layered in with the drama is a healthy helping of sitcom-level humor. Lots of laugh lines are exchanged among friends, with genuine affection expressed among them, and Caroline striving to be less of a burden as she heals. Add to this a good number of Motown hits in background or woven into the plot, and it all starts to look like fun, or at least the hope of a happy conclusion.

But suddenly, outside the basement windows, there are shouts, and fires, and armored vehicles, and gunshots. The party’s over.

Lorene is solid as the woman at the eye of this storm, whose façade of strength hides a fear of becoming crushed – financially, emotionally, even physically — like so many others in her city. Adams is excellent as the young man who realizes he is overdue to fully grow up and stop leaning on her older sister (much as she likes it), but still wanting her to be happy. Martin is once again a master of both comedy and drama as the chill guy dealing with cold reality, and ambitions he is eager to share with Chelle by his side. I’m sure Toler was outstanding as usual, however, I saw a performance with Kel as Bunny, and it felt like the role was written for her. Dandurand plays the cypher well, proving to be the kind of person who can’t help but get into trouble – bringing others with her.

Woven in with this look at family, trust, and life’s struggles are the bigger issues that still don’t seem fixed more than 55 years later, making “Detroit ‘67” an appropriate choice for NAATC’s inaugural season, and worthy of looking up wherever it is staged. Once again, this company is upping the quality of Indy’s cultural scene – setting the trend.

Thus Spake Southbank: Fascinating portrait of a misunderstood man

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By John Lyle Belden

It’s interesting that Marcia Eppich-Harris relates her writing of the play, “Seeking Nietzsche,” now premiering with Southbank Theatre Company, “out of order in 30- to 45-minute blocks, simply writing whatever I had time to blast out.” This scattered approach reflects how German academic and philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche (1844-1900) reportedly composed one of his more notable works, “Thus Spake Zarathustra,” which is referenced in the play.

True to a philosopher of at the edge of the modern world, this dramatic examination of the man goes back and forth, from his deathbed to his early academic career, to his various works, and to his key relationships. Lukas Schooler in the brushy mustache bears a resemblance to Nietzsche, and his talent at interpreting the often-misunderstood personality brings him brilliantly to life, noting, in Eppich-Harris’s words (that Friedrich would likely have said, given the chance), “Some men are born posthumously, as I was.”

The set, designed by Aric Harris, is a theatre of Nietzsche’s decaying mind – papers everywhere – which fits neatly into the pit-like indoor amphitheater of Shelton Auditorium at Butler University. Evren Wilder Elliott, familiar with being misunderstood and the struggle to make one’s self the best man possible, directs with an eye to portraying a man whose life and opinions were ever on the move, never predictably fixed. Nikki Sayer is stage manager.

In Nietzsche’s world, we meet his firmly conservative sister, Elisabeth Forster-Nietzsche (Amalia Howard), whose German Nationalist pride easily adopts the anti-semitism his brother never felt. There is also Lou Salomè (Trick Blanchfield), with whom Friedrich and another companion attempt a philosophical commune – a sort of thruple with no sex, but a lot of longing. That doesn’t last, but Salomè’s deep platonic affection for him does. Celebrated composer Richard Wagner (James Mannan) is embraced as a father figure; his works were as brilliant as his views on society were toxic. Swept up by the former, Nietzsche finally cannot tolerate the latter.

Much of the difficulty in understanding the philosopher was due to his fluctuating viewpoints, scribbled roughly on various sheafs of paper; this was further distorted by the posthumous editing of his sister, an eventual admirer of the new German Chancellor.

I joked to Eppich-Harris that I would have named the play, “God is Dead, and I’m Not Feeling Too Well, Myself,” but that sentiment does sum up the feeling of her “Finding Nietzsche.” In Wilder’s hands, with bold support by Howard, Blanchfield, and Mannan, we get from Schooler an intriguing soul always suffering in some manner – mentally, spiritually, and especially physically – but with an underlying cord of humor than never quite breaks until the moment he sees his legacy likely forever tainted, when we see the ghost of the man who mourned God, nearly cry.

Pardon the tangent, but consider how on short video online platforms, you can see an exploding object with the video run in reverse. The outer damage and exploded bits collapse towards the initial blast, finally bringing the true object in focus. This play hits “rewind” on the violently interpreted concepts such as the “ubermensch,” bringing us back to the contrary yet certain man who went out for a walk and came back with some insight.

A brilliant exploration of a man, his philosophy, and how they molded each other before changing the world, the play runs Thursday through Sunday, Sept. 21-24, at the Shelton, 1000 W. 42nd St., Indianapolis (Seminary side of the Butler University campus). Information at southbanktheatre.org, tickets through Butler Arts and Events.  

Old play’s themes are ever current

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By John Lyle Belden

Was there ever a good time to be 15 years old?

For an answer, there is the hit Broadway musical “Spring Awakening.” Based on a controversial 1891 German play, it presents the Teutonic teens of the 1890s with music styled from the 1990s (by Duncan Sheik, lyrics and book by Steven Sater), because, aside from the Latin lessons, it’s all essentially the same. Put aside the cultural and technological differences, and the themes ring familiar.

The musical, now at the District Theatre, is presented by Fast Apple Artists, founded by Kelsey Tate McDaniel, an Indianapolis actress and recent New York University graduate. Mack Fensterstock directs.

Wendla (McDaniel) is becoming aware of feelings and mysteries which her mother is hesitant to explain. Her upbringing has been idyllic, which is good, except she’s feeling uncomfortably naïve. The other girls, especially Martha (Sophie Sweany) and Ilse (Eden Franco), wish they had such quiet homes; Anna (Adrian Daeger) and Thea (Lauren Lewis) muse over which boys they will eventually marry.

As for the boys, Moritz (Kendrell Stiff) is struggling, with no adult willing to cut him any slack. His best friend, Melchior (Dylan Kelly), is a budding intellectual growing frustrated with the status quo. Georg (Nathan Brown) lusts after his piano teacher. Hanschen (Jim Melton) and Ernst (Parker Taylor) quietly lust for each other. Otto (Kipp Morgan) just lusts.

For much of the play, we get glimpses into their lives and conversations, with the microphones coming out when characters let their hormone-fueled inner selves express their questions and frustrations. As we move into the second act, we see what happens when a lack of guidance and support brings our youths to hard – even tragic – lessons.

As the production’s trigger warning notes, “Spring Awakening” deals with issues of sexuality, abuse, assault and rape, firearms, suicide, teen pregnancy, abortion – stuff we’ll likely still be singing about in the 2090s.

The cast includes Jennifer Simms in Adult Woman roles and S. Michael Simms in Adult Man roles, as well as Bailey Rae Harmon, Katie Kobold, and Alexis Koshenina in ensemble parts.

The players, especially with being not much older than the persons they portray, give a powerful performance that we feel as much as hear. The simple stage set (recycled from the District’s former “outback” stage) puts the emphasis on the emerging personalities they present.

Following up on last year’s acclaimed production of “Heathers,” McDaniel and company establish themselves as a welcome new facet in the jewel of Indy’s stage scene.

Performances of “Spring Awakening” are Thursday through Saturday evenings, and Saturday and Sunday afternoons, at 627 Massachusetts Ave., Indianapolis. Get tickets at indydistricttheatre.org. Learn about Fast Apple Artists on McDaniel’s website.

‘Somewhat True,’ definitely entertaining

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By John Lyle Belden

“The Somewhat True Tale of Robin Hood,” by Mary Lynn Dobson, is a perfect play for teen and tween actors, and Main Street Productions does it proud on their Westfield stage.

Historians can tie themselves in knots trying to figure out who the “real” English folk hero was, but that absolutely does not matter here. From the title onward, we are treated to something like the atmosphere of a Muppet film, or Monty Python, or a sort of G-rated “Deadpool.” Essentially, they are in a story, and know it, are just fine with it, and as things progress, they take advantage of it.

I’m tempted to call this “the Yeater brothers strike again.” It is upon Owen that is cast the enormous responsibility – and ego – of being Robin, “a great character of literature,” he reminds us. To strike the karmic balance, slightly younger bro Quinn is the conniving Sheriff of Nottingham. (Big brother Mason is stage manager, their little brother was in the audience.)

For true “Boo, Hiss” evil (we are encouraged to shout along), there is Harrison Coon as dastardly Prince John, sharply performing like a demented Benedict Cumberbatch. On the noble side of the coin, there is our Lady Marian, Rachel Bush, fortunately talented enough to avoid being upstaged by her scream queen Lady in Waiting, Ella Crites.

Robin manages a band of Merry Men (of any gender), manically played by Maile Alpizar, Nora Gapinski Coon, Sammy Geis, Neil Hackman, Isabella Hasseld, Kaavya Jethava, Owen Lockert, Anna Pfeiffer, and scene-stealing Zach Harvey as (actually little) Little John – all armed with spoons (I’m guessing an homage to the Costner film?). They are co-led by Sister Tuck, Kaelyn Harvey, armed (naturally) with a ruler.

Hackman and Pfeiffer also play guards at Prince John’s Court, which is attended by a trio of highly entertaining Fawning Ladies: Chaya Flicker, Tatum Meadors and Sophia Musick.

As for the story, you likely already know it – except maybe the part about bowling, and the essential role of the Town’s Guy (Teddy Epstein), our narrator and the characters’ link to the all-important Miss Technical Director (Megan Mramor, according to the Crew list).

Also, you can tell it’s Medieval England because the footwear is all by Sir Chuck Taylor (those are the rules, I guess).

Directed by Nikki Lynch and Becca Bartley, saying this is delightful seems to sell this show short, but it truly is a hilarious delight to see kids taking history and “great literature” on such a fun ride, complete with cheeky “you get that?” after-school special moments.

As I post this, there is a matinee today (July 30), as well as performances Aug. 3-6 at the Basile Westfield Playhouse, 220 N. Union St., downtown Westfield. For info and tickets, see westfieldplayhouse.org.  

Fonseca: Play’s college gives bold lesson

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By John Lyle Belden

Founding father Thomas Jefferson’s proudest achievement was the 1819 founding of the University of Virginia, an institution of higher learning open to (if Wikipedia can be believed) “students from all social strata, based solely on ability.” It admitted its first woman in the 1890s, and the first Black student – after a lawsuit – in 1950. Of course, it’s widely known now that Jefferson was an Enlightenment thinker who opposed the slave trade, yet owned hundreds of people of color himself, including Sally Hemmings, who – with little choice in the matter – was his mistress with whom he fathered a few children (who essentially got nothing from his estate).

In “tj loves sally 4 ever” by James Ijames, presented by Fonseca Theatre Company, directed by Josiah McCruiston, we step to the 200-year-old walls of Commonwealth of Virginia University (next stop over in the theatre multiverse from UVA, not to be confused with Virginia Commonwealth, a totally different college). It was founded by Founding Fathers and, until recently, honored them with statues that have been removed. On the stage set by Kristopher D. Steege, the monuments literally leave their shadow on the school. There is an appropriately diverse student body, with a Black Greek scene and hip-hop at the Homecoming events, but there are tensions. So many tensions.

Our guide (the fourth wall is very thin) and central character is Sally (Chandra Lynch). You can guess at the last name – but this is “now,” not back then, if it matters. She is furthering her studies as a research assistant to dean Thomas Jefferson (Eric Bryant) – not “that” one from ages ago, just a descendant. To make this digestible in a 90-minute (no intermission) comic drama, we have the rest of the students represented by these souls: Harold (Atiyyah Radford), a student activist who is always right, in principle anyway; and Annette and Pam (Shandrea Funnye and Avery Elise), two Sisters of Beta Beta Epsilon who smile through gritted teeth as they give tours of campus buildings with names of past slaveholder and anti-integration families by day, and in the evenings Stomp the Yard and speak their minds. As scenes and discussions require some elaboration for the audience, Annete and Pam quietly slip in to offer “Footnotes.”

All this happens during a memorable Homecoming week where different views of history are on inevitable collision course – including a certain white man’s feelings for a young black woman in his employ.

In McCruiston’s hands, this production is a cautionary love note to academia, a reminder of what “getting woke” meant originally (the play premiered in early 2020): to awaken to past injustices, acknowledge them and move forward with respect for all, without attempting to gaslight those who know too well the painful past that it wasn’t “that bad.” A hoop skirt might look good on a Black body, but it hearkens to a time when that flesh was property. Issues of both race and sex get a hard look in this play.

Lynch seems to make Ijames’ words her own, giving depth of both feeling and understanding to the often odd goings-on. Radford goes from angry-young-man to shuck-and-jive comic with entertaining alacrity, but without yielding a gram of dignity (even when relieving himself on the wall). Funnye and Elise reminded me of cast members of HBO’s “A Black Lady Sketch Show” with sharp delivery of simultaneously comic and enlightening moments. As for Bryant, he holds his own as the guy who just assumes he understands race, but we see far more of his lily-whiteness than anyone needs to.

Funny and thought provoking – like practically every play at Fonseca, but it maintains the high standard – “tj loves sally 4 ever” runs through August 6 at 2508 W. Michigan St., Indianapolis. Get info and tickets at fonsecatheatre.org.

See why everyone went bananas for Baker

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By John Lyle Belden

Like, I suspect, many others, most of what I knew of Josephine Baker was that she was an early 20th-century performer who chose continent-wide fame in France over being just “a Negro” in America. And, knowing she was being adored rather than belittled, she indulged in and claimed power over stereotype with her infamous “Sauvage” dance wearing little more than a string of bananas.

But any cursory look at her biography shows that Baker is so very much more than the first African-American international superstar. “Josephine: A Musical Cabaret,” presented by Dynamite Lunchbox Productions and starring co-creator Tymisha Harris, at The District Theatre in downtown Indianapolis, presents her life story in a most entertaining fashion, letting Baker herself tell it between timeless songs of her era.

Harris brings the diva to life in non-stop flirtatious mode – remembering, relating, dishing, confessing. One moment she dances in pasties, the next she feigns modesty to a gentleman she addresses (including a few she sees in the audience). Yet even at her most exotic, she maintains that tasteful line one had to toe in that time when even the Folies Bergère had its limits. Thus, consider this a pushing-it PG-13 or light R rating for teens and older.

That flirting was with both men and women, as recent biographers have revealed and our Baker freely admits, making her an LGBTQ icon, as well as a war hero and Civil Rights activist – both of these are also addressed.

Also co-created by Michael Marinaccio and Tod Kimbro, this production runs a full two acts rather than the Fringe Festival-length performance seen elsewhere on the tour. Remaining dates are tonight (as I post this) and Sunday at the District Theatre, 627 Massachusetts Ave., Indianapolis. Get tickets at indydistricttheatre.org and info on the show and tour at josephinetheplay.com.

Asaykwee presents tragic story of “Triangle”

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By John Lyle Belden

On Saturday, March 25, 1911, just minutes before the workday was to end, a fire broke out in the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory on the upper floors of a Greenwich Village building in New York. In minutes it would bring about the deaths of 146 people, and afterward, an outcry for better working conditions for all laborers.

That death toll was 123 women and girls (as young as 14) and 23 men. They all had names; they had lives. In “Triangle,” a stunning drama by Ben Asaykwee presented at the Phoenix Theatre Cultural Center, we hear their names; we see their faces; we get a glimpse of those lives.

This is one of Asaykwee’s projects in which stage veterans mentor young actors. With this production the approach was more collaborative than one-on-one, assistant director Kallen Ruston said, building the kind of close contact and camaraderie that the garment workers they play would have felt. Thus, we have Shelbi Berry Kamohara, Maddie Deeken, Shawnté Gaston, MaryAnne Mathews, David Mosedale, Jennifer Simms, and Georgeanna Smith Wade aside teens Toni Jazvic, Gennesis Galdamez, Sophia Huerta, Paula Hopkins, Zoe Lowe, Juliet Malherbe, and Novalee Simms. In all, an excellent ensemble performance.

The play starts with a warm March day being even more unbearable with hundreds of people and machines in such close quarters. While their hands are in constant motion, their minds are occupied with familiar workplace chatter. There’s a breeze at the window. There’s talk of unions. The last strike made things better, and it didn’t. One of the girls is engaged! Someone is hurt by a needle! How much will the pay be this week? Someone needs to put water in those fire buckets…

The second act is Saturday afternoon. It’s even hotter, and that’s before someone on the eighth floor notices smoke. In 1911, locked doors and flimsy fire escapes were common, and the fire truck ladder only reaches to the sixth floor…

Only a couple of the people represented on stage will survive the ordeal. Asaykwee’s insightful script gives us a feel for what all must have felt – a cry from Beyond that later generations must heed. We hear their names; we see their story. And with it, we also get a parable of American greed, with what can happen if the only concern is the bottom line, and those in charge ignoring what might not happen because it hasn’t, until it does.

The narrative also includes glimpses of reformers, suffragettes, and other signs of the era’s restlessness. But as a practical matter, if you didn’t do that job for what little you get, you don’t eat; so there they were, at their machines when hell literally broke loose.

The staging hints at the claustrophobic work floor with the smaller Phoenix stage covered in chairs, the audience close at hand on all four sides of the “black box” room. Ruston said the costuming reflects a timeless look, with period skirts but more recent-looking colored ribbons in girls’ hair, allowing us to see ourselves or the women in our lives in them.

Performances of “Triangle” continue June 22-25 (Thursday the 22nd is sold out) at 705 N. Illinois St. For tickets and info, see phoenixtheatre.org.