suicide

Solid ‘Salesman’ in Westfield

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By John Lyle Belden

Nearly everyone has heard of Arthur Miller’s “Death of a Salesman.” If for nothing more, it’s known that this Pulitzer-winning drama is regarded as one of the greatest plays in the English language, with its titular lead Willy Loman ranking with Shakespeare’s Hamlet as a role that defines a great actor. However, I confess I had not seen this play until the current production by Main Street Productions in Westfield.

Directed by Kelly Keller, this staging more than lives up to the work’s reputation. Though it takes a full three hours, its pace and substance fill every minute with meaning. To quote Miller’s script, “Attention must be paid.”

Aaron Moon plays Loman, a traveling salesman who lives in Brooklyn while working the entire New England region. More than 30 years on this circuit has affected him, yet he remains upbeat, smiling big and talking bigger as always. But now there is sadness in his eyes while he speaks triumphantly, mostly of past events – increasingly to people only he can see.

This worries his wife, Linda (Susan Hill), who is also growing frustrated with adult sons Happy (Broden Irwin), who shows no signs of settling down from his playboy lifestyle, and Biff (Connor Phelan) who, while doing all manner of jobs in several different states, has not settled into a productive career path.

The scenes blend this present and Willy’s vivid reminiscing of the past, when his sons were teens, eager to please their old man. The memories especially stick around the time that Biff played in a high school championship football game with college scouts in attendance. These moments include the boys’ schoolmate Bernard (Mike Sosnowski) and his father Charley (Jim Gryga), who remain the Lomans’ friends in the later times.

Willy also remembers his brother, Ben (Tom Smith), who “walked into the jungle, and… walked out rich.”

The cast also includes Jonathan Rogers as Stanley, the waiter at the Chop House, Erin Keller and Desiree Black as two ladies who Happy and Biff meet there, Tanner Brunson as the son of the man who first hired Willy (and is now in charge), and Kristin Hilger as “The Woman.”

This parable from the late 1940s still resonates today with our current hustle and grind culture, coupled with an uncertain job market, as well as anxieties ranging from the personal to society in general. For those who struggle, “fake it till you make it” can only go so far, especially when one can no longer tell the illusion of success from the real thing. Compounding these issues, the play also features themes of mental illness and suicide. The title is not a metaphor.

Moon delivers an award-worthy turn as Willy Loman, a mensch you feel for and fear for as we witness his frustrations, optimistic delusions, and decline. Hill is also stunning as his wife, desperate to bring some sense of stability back to a family that had always been on shifting ground. Irwin’s Happy, in living his own way, is more like his father than he thinks. Phelan is exceptional as conflicted Biff, expressing the strain between expectations that diminish him and a life of freedom that would apparently disappoint those he loves. Smith’s dignified calm speaks volumes.

Excellent set design of the Loman home is by Jay Ganz. The lighting, designed by Stephen DiCarlo and operated by Scott Hall, neatly helps emphasize shifts of time and perspective. Tanya Keller is stage manager.

Remaining performances of “Death of a Salesman” are Thursday through Sunday, Nov. 20-23, at the Basile Westfield Playhouse, 220 N. Union St. Get tickets at westfieldplayhouse.org.

Hyperion presents man’s ‘zero hour’

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By John Lyle Belden

BE ADVISED: This play explores heavy topics, including suicide.

What does the dark, serious comedy “Rocket Man” by Steven Dietz, performed for one weekend by Hyperion Players in Fishers, directed by Daniel Maloy, have to do with the 1972 hit song by Elton John and Bernie Taupin?

In my mind, absolutely nothing – and everything.

The song was reportedly inspired by a sci-fi story by Ray Bradbury about a time when being an astronaut will be just a regular job. The lyrics are less about the wonder of traveling in space and more about the ennui and loneliness of the very long commute.

In this play, Donny (Bailey Hunt), in his 40s, finds himself in a crisis he can’t just brush off as “midlife.” It’s a crisis of time and space. He’s “losing” time; hours and days seem to pass without his noticing. He plans a milestone birthday party for teenage daughter Trisha (Amelia Bostick), not realizing it was a week ago.

As for space, he’s been changing his relationship to it. Having quit his long-time successful job as a land surveyor and abandoned his past ambition to be a landscape architect, Donny cleared his house of all its objects – to the shock of Trisha, surprise of good friend and neighbor Buck (Greg Fiebig), and chagrin of his ex-wife Rita (Isabel Hunt) – except for the attic, in which he has reopened the skylight and set up his E-Z Boy recliner for stargazing.

Donny’s best friend and former survey partner Louise (Lauren Taylor) comes over as well. Her chronic insomnia has somehow led her to study at a seminary. Buck confides in her on a spiritual manner: he is sure he is hearing voices around his own house, telling him to build an ark (like in the biblical Noah story).

Rita contends with the consequences of her “year of being real,” in which she always told people what she thought of them – a factor in her and Donny’s divorce. Still, it is his unsettled mind that primarily drives him.

There is also a crosswalk sign, “terrible” cookies, the moon and stars, an umbrella, things not done, things not finished, the song, “Quiet Nights of Quiet Stars,” and some recognizable signs that a person is taking a one-way voyage.

However, once we reach that other world – where things are the same, yet different – the troubled feelings aren’t necessarily better.

This inventive look at loss and what-ifs is wonderfully presented and incredibly challenging. Hunt’s performance is of a man feeling the pressure of being between worlds – age, creativity, even literal planets – who only feels relief in a desperate plan. The others play well their unusual aspects, enriching the context for the story’s Bradbury-esque strangeness.

Fiebig also designed the excellent attic setting in which nearly all the action takes place.

This play has remaining performances tonight (as I post this) and Sunday, May 31-June 1, at The Switch theatre in Ji-Eun Lee Music Academy, 10029 126th St., Fishers. Info and tickets at hyperionplayers.com.

– – –

Can’t help but see the events of the pivotal moment between Acts in these lyrics:

“And I think it’s gonna be a long, long time
‘Til touchdown brings me ’round again to find
I’m not the man they think I am at home
Oh, no, no, no
I’m a rocket man
Rocket man
Burning out his fuse up here alone.”

A family life far from ‘Normal’

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By John Lyle Belden

We encourage all who can to see “Next to Normal,” the Tony and Pulitzer-winning musical by Brian Yorkey and Tom Kitt at Footlite Musicals.

A couple of caveats: There are all manner of content warnings for this dramatic rock opera about a mother’s struggle with severe bipolar disorder, including themes of suicide, drug use, and treatment by electroconvulsive therapy (ECT). This production places all the seating on the stage, meaning both a more intimate experience and limited audience size. Technically all performances – through Sunday, Jan. 19 – are sold out, but any who wish to take a seat left by a no-show are encouraged to try. Call 317-926-6630 for details.

Diana Goodman (Angela Manlove) looks like a typical suburban Mom, with a headstrong son, Gabe (Parker Taylor); overachieving daughter, Natalie (Tessa Gibbons); and very understanding even when baffled husband, Dan (Milo Ellis). She has also had 16 years of bipolar symptoms, for which she has taken numerous medications.

Off her pills at Gabe’s urging, she goes manic, including inviting Natalie’s new boyfriend Henry (Nate Taillon) to dinner. But everything will come crashing down when the birthday cake comes out.

Bobby Haley plays both psychopharmacologist Dr. Fine and the more helpful therapist, Dr. Madden.  

Realizing the complexities of portraying mental disorders, as well as the advances in diagnosis and treatment since the show’s premiere Off-Broadway in 2008 (and on Broadway the next year), director Paige Scott sought guidance from mental health professionals, including Tracy Herring and Erin Becker (who are also local actors). They said they have seen in their practice people much like the musical’s characters – those with serious mental illness as well as family members with their own issues. Herring noted that practically all the portrayals of symptoms and treatment here are appropriate and not sensationalized for the stage.

“I expected to hate it,” Becker said of her first encounter with the show. But she, too, appreciated the manner in which the events were shown, adding that ECT has become even more manageable than what Diana experiences – the character’s over-the-top response a reaction to past horror stories of “shock therapy.” While considered a last resort (as it is presented here) for severe conditions, Becker notes that some patients will undergo a session, “maybe 30 seconds,” and go to work later that day.

The actors took great pains with their portrayals, resulting in beautiful, heartfelt work. Manlove brings us into Diana’s pain, but we also see the toll her illness takes on the others. Gibbons’s Natalie acts out, needing to be seen; Ellis’s Dan is a rock that is crumbling. Meanwhile, Taylor gives a brilliantly fierce performance as Gabe. Haley strikes the right balance of professionalism and empathy as Madden. Taillon as Henry plays the kind of friend we all need at times like these.

With mental health awareness having come to the fore in today’s culture, “Next to Normal” is as important a theatre work as ever, and in Scott’s careful hands, with this cast and crew, a masterpiece.

Footlite Musicals is located at 1847 N. Alabama St., Indianapolis; online at footlite.org.

In new drama, girls seek meaning in naive ‘game’

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By Wendy Carson

Growing up is hard. Add to this living in a small town with only an abusive single parent, and an overactive imagination. Such is the situation of Rae and Molly, two best friends struggling to save each other from their collective traumas in “The JonBenèt Game,” a drama by Tori Keenan-Zelt presented by American Lives Theatre at IF Theatre.

The production is part of a National New Play Network Rolling World Premiere, directed by Jenni White who has been in workshop with the playwright to develop it first for Indianapolis (including a reading last year). In the coming months it will premiere with other companies across the United States as part of this new work’s development.

Remembered in flashback by adult Rae (Molly Bellner), the 12-year-old girls fantasize about running away to Chicago (their ideal big city) and Molly (Cass Knowling) becomes obsessed with the 1996 murder of six-year-old JonBenèt Ramsey, “the most famous Cold Case of our time.” Studying a 1999 book on the case like a bible, the two act out various scenarios of how the young girl lived and died. When their at-first harmless play-acting takes a dark turn, they are ripped apart and reviled throughout the town.

Rae is now an adult, trying to redeem herself as a guidance councilor at the Christian school she attended during that period. However, her life is again thrown into chaos by Hazel (Knowling), Molly’s adolescent daughter who has found her mother’s book on the Ramsey case.

Senior counselor Miss Kay (Lynne Perkins), whose decision it was to give Rae this chance at redemption, offers to take Hazel as her own charge, but life intervenes and Rae forms a bond with Hazel, who begins her own obsession, her own turn at the “game.”

At the crux of all this turmoil lies an all-important question: If you had a chance to relive one of the most defining moments of your life, knowing the costs, would you do anything differently?

In compelling performances, Bellner and Knowling present complex troubled characters. Bellner is our bridge between generations, unsure of her way at both ends and striving to understand. Rae, while seeking to help her best friend and that friend’s daughter in any way she can, finds that the physical scars she hid from her mother’s attacks are not nearly as painful as the monster she harbors deep within herself. Knowling portrays girls on the edge, frantically searching – Molly desiring a route to escaping her mentally-abusive mother, Hazel seeking answers in the shadow of her own Mom, perhaps hidden in a well-worn true-crime paperback.

Perkins gives us the adult in the room, ironically proving powerless as the forces of trauma overtake innocence – portrayed further in a moment as JonBenèt’s despairing mother.

Note this work comes with content warnings for suicide and self-harm, as well as the titular killing.

An exploration of grief, trauma, and dealing with coming of age or its denial, “The JonBenèt Game” runs through Jan. 26 at IF, home of IndyFringe, 719 E. St. Clair St., Indianapolis. For tickets, go to indyfringe.org.

Bard Fest presents heavy ‘Hedda’

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By John Lyle Belden

Trigger warning: Suicide.

Now that I’ve given that necessary note, I can delve into why – if you feel up to it – you should see the Indy Bard Fest production of Henrik Ibsen’s “Hedda Gabler,” adapted by Jon Robin Baitz, directed by Chris Saunders at Arts for Lawrence’s Theater at the Fort.

For those, like me, who may have read Ibsen’s “A Doll’s House” in school but are not aware of this work, another example of his bold realistic look at society in late 19th century Norway, Gabler is a headstrong woman whose beauty attracts men while her icy demeanor keeps them at bay: the original “mean girl.” The daughter of an army General, she is also accustomed to a certain standard of living.

The play opens with Hedda (Morgan Morton) returning from her long honeymoon after marrying the academic George Tesman (Joe Wagner), an uber-nerd who spent most of those months in tedious research. It becomes evident that she has married him mostly for his potential status once his scholarly works are published, and takes his puppy-like devotion as her due. She enjoys being rude to George’s aunt Julia (Susan Hill) and indifferent to the servant Berta (Carrie Reiberg) in this big house that George can barely afford.

The Tesmans aren’t the only ones back in town. Eilert Lovborg (Matt Kraft), who had been a hopeless alcoholic as well as Hedda’s old flame, has turned up sober with a popular book that rivals the one George is still working on. Aided by Thea (Anna Himes), whom Hedda used to bully in their school days, he also composed an even better follow-up – the only manuscript copy of which is in his bag. However, a boys’ night out with George and the unscrupulous Judge Brack (Clay Mabbitt) sets in motion events with tragic consequences, aided by Hedda’s machinations.

Though the play predates Freud’s works, it shows Ibsen’s keen perception of various neurotic types – which our cast ably take on. Kraft’s Lovborg is the restless genius bohemian; Wagner’s detail-obsessed yet socially oblivious George appears to be on the autistic spectrum; Himes’ Thea is desperate to rise above her fears, and at the very least redirect her people-pleasing impulses to someone more appreciative than the distant husband she left to be with Eilert; Mabbitt’s Brack is the classic sleazy womanizer and party hound with a position he can use over others.

But most fascinating, of course, is our title character. Hedda’s narcissistic aspects are obvious, but she also has a unique perspective on life, honor, and the way things should be that lead her to an even more untenable position. Morton has all her stone glances and manic moments down perfectly, keeping her fascinating enough to not let us be completely put off by her brusque demeanor.

This brilliant examination of a fateful 48 hours in the lives of people filled with pride and potential has one more weekend, Friday through Sunday, Nov. 10-12, at Theater at the Fort, 8920 Otis Ave., Lawrence. Get info at indybardfest.com, tickets at artsforlawrence.org.

Laughter and tears in Belfry’s ‘Crimes’

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By John Lyle Belden

The Pulitzer Prize-winning comic drama “Crimes of the Heart” by Beth Henley takes on a special resonance in these times of heightened awareness of mental health issues and violence against women.

The Belfry Theatre presents this play, directed by Jen Otterman, at the Theater at the Fort in Lawrence in all its dysfunctional glory. Taking place in a roughly 24-hour period in a small Mississippi town in 1974, we meet the Magrath sisters: Lenny (Brooke Hackman) is turning 30 but feels ancient; Meg (Sarah Eberhardt) apparently put her Hollywood singing career on hold to rush home; and Babe (Becca Bartley) is getting bailed out after shooting her abusive rich attorney and State Senator husband in the gut. Cousin Chick (Ka’Lena Cuevas) thinks she’s helping, but is mostly a judgmental pill.

Also on hand are family friend Doc Porter (Tanner Brunson), who isn’t actually a doctor (why will be revealed), and young lawyer Barnette Lloyd (Mickey Masterson) who takes up Babe’s case because he has a “personal vendetta” against her husband.

While I do recommend this play for its sharp script and excellent performances, I must acknowledge there should be a “Trigger Warning” as there is frank discussion of suicide and attempted acts of self-harm. In fact, if one were to observe this as an armchair psychologist, you could see a lot of disorders on display, especially the effects of narcissistic abuse by the sisters’ grandfather (offstage, but very much a character in this story).

And yet, this is also a comedy. The dark humor pops up in little bits here and there, such as Lenny’s “birthday cookie,” and bubbles over in gut-busting moments including one that involves a broom and another that is triggered by the phrase, “you’re too late.” For anyone who relates to tragic circumstances, it’s easy to see how “we shouldn’t laugh at this” only triggers another round of guffaws through cast and audience alike.

Hackman naturally portrays Lenny as a character you just want to put your arm around, maybe to gently shake some sense into. Eberhardt as Meg presents us with a fallen honky-tonk angel who surprises you with her depth of spirit, but who can’t help being that girl in need of rescue. As Babe, Bartley plays a woman who is 24 going on 15, her life decided for her in a way she never wanted, desperate for a way out. Brunson comes across as a strong good ole boy, but more than Doc’s injured leg hasn’t healed properly. Masterson presents Lloyd as the kind of perfect gentleman that makes one suspicious. Finally, as Chick, Cuevas is great as the kind of person who means well, but, well, bless her heart…

Complex and compelling, “Crimes of the Heart” runs through Sunday, May 7, at 8920 Otis Ave., Indianapolis. Info and tickets at thebelfrytheatre.com or artsforlawrence.org.

ALT: What happened there

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By John Lyle Belden

In the early 2000s, by annual average there was a suicide in Las Vegas roughly every 26 hours. However I feel about this, I can be confident it is true, as someone checked. The serious and fraught topic of self-harm is what gives the play “The Lifespan of a Fact” its riveting emotional heft, but at its core is the principle noted in the previous sentence.

This drama – with hilarious comic moments to get through the serious context – by Jeremy Kareken, David Murrell, and Gordon Farrell, is presented by American Lives Theatre, directed by Chris Saunders, at the Phoenix Theatre. It is based on a book by John D’Agata and Jim Fingal detailing their struggle with D’Agata’s 2010 essay in The Believer magazine.

Editor Emily Penrose (Eva Patton) calls upon intern Jim Fingal (Joe Wagner), a recent Harvard graduate, to fact-check the piece by D’Agata (Lukas Felix Schooler), which is ready to go to print in just a few days. Fingal is told to give it his best effort, as the writer is known to take liberties with details. “Give it the ‘full Jim’,” Penrose instructs, and boy, does she get it.

The essay, focusing on a teenager’s suicide – jumping from the city’s tallest casino tower – to comment on the greater culture of Las Vegas, is riddled with factual errors, starting with the lead paragraph. While the death itself is well-documented, various added details are wrong. Penrose tells Fingal to bring them up directly to D’Agata, which he does by flying out to visit his Vegas apartment.

At first the altered “facts” are trivial, inspiring much of the humor. When Penrose is alerted to one that could get the magazine in legal trouble, she, too, travels from to New York to Nevada, just hours before the presses in Illinois roll for national distribution.

I must note my own bias here. I am an experienced journalist, including a university Journalism degree and experience at four daily newspapers (most recently the Daily Reporter in Greenfield, Ind.). In my mind there was no question that D’Agata was in the wrong with the initial version of the essay. Deviations from the truth, even in details having nothing to do with the core event, and especially easy to confirm and debunk, hurt the credibility of not only the periodical and the writer, but also the valid point of the story itself.

However, D’Agata argues, this isn’t a news “article” but a non-fiction “essay,” and “the wrong facts get in the way of the story.” He justifies altering events for his writing’s symmetry, or because the wording doesn’t “sing” to him otherwise. What could appear as indulging in ego he sees as a higher calling to a deeper “truth.” Having gone to extensive research, interviews, and discussions with the deceased’s family, he feels too personally invested to submit to the smallest correction or alteration.

For his part, Fingal appears absurdly nit-picky – what color were the bricks, how many strip clubs were there? But what we would call “white lies” also contain more misleading falsities, and if any were detected by a reader, he notes, that same person could decry the whole essay as a “hoax” on social media.

Penrose understands the writer isn’t, strictly speaking, a journalist, and her magazine is more literary than hard-news, but she insists on having standards. Still – the writing was so good she senses this could be a major milestone for the publication, if she could just get everyone in agreement on the actual text.

Patton, Wagner and Schooler deliver riveting, top of their game, performances. No winks at the audience, this is serious business involving real people and real incidents (both the publication of the essay and the death that inspired it). The humor is purely situational, the absurd that comes with doing one’s job, this time with higher stakes.

“Trigger Warning” is very much applicable here, if you hadn’t guessed by the subject matter. The play contains the most heart-wrenching moment of silence, and an ending that lets no one off the hook.

The ALT play runs through Sept. 25 at the Phoenix, 712 N. Illinois St., Indianapolis; details and tickets at phoenixtheatre.org or americanlivestheatre.org.

The best-selling 2012 book, also called “The Lifespan of a Fact,” is still available in stores and online. The essay in question is still online in its checked, edited, and published form (Note: intensive discussion and description of suicide) here.

No. 1: Ice Cream!

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By Wendy Carson

First off, suicide, as well as the depressive hopelessness that can lead to it, are no laughing matter and these things should never be taken lightly. However, survivors dealing with the impact of the act, and trying to understand/heal afterwards all have different ways of doing so.

In “Every Brilliant Thing,” Ben Asaykwee brings us playwright Duncan Macmillan and comedian Jonny Donahoe’s story of a seven-year-old boy’s struggle to help his mom find some sort of joy in her life so she will continue living it.

While the show is not autobiographical, it is an amalgamation of numerous true stories of those who have lived through these situations, including Macmillan and Donahoe themselves.

Our Narrator (Asaykwee) tells the life story of the boy who, at seven, is taken to the hospital by his father because his mom “is sad” and “has done something stupid.” Determined to find a way to help, he begins to make a list of “Brilliant Things” that make one happy in order to show her there is a lot out there to live for. While he is aware that she has read at least the start of his list – she corrects his spelling – she doesn’t seem to understand its purpose, so his work on the list continues.

We are privy to his life story throughout: his teenage angst through her second “episode,” falling in love at college, marriage, separation, the inevitable funeral, and survival beyond it, all the while seeing the growth and development of the list.

Audience members are not just observers of the story, they are participants. Upon arriving, you will be given one or two numbered items on the list that you will shout out when they are added. A few audience members will also portray some characters required for the narrative, to the great delight of all. There is a surprising amount of laughter in this heartwarming production. There is also the added treat of ice cream after the show, per item #1 on the list.

A talk-back afterwards is available for anyone who feels the need to discuss or decompress as well (you still get ice cream).

Throughout the ups and downs of the boy’s journey, Asaykwee shows us the full emotional range of the character, as well as his impressive acting and improv skills. Recently open about his own mental struggles, he finds this a challenging and important role. Director Kevin Caraher is also familiar with stories of personal growth through trauma, having been in plays such as “Bill W.” and “Small Mouth Sounds.”

Of the three productions of this script I have seen, this is by far my favorite.

So, come out to not only watch the list grow throughout this story, but also feel free to take a Post-it afterwards and add your own Brilliant Thing to the list. Produced by Stage Door Productions, performances are through Sunday, June 26, at the District Theatre, 627 Massachusetts Ave., Indianapolis. Get tickets at indydistricttheatre.org.

Messages go out about the struggle within

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By John Lyle Belden

“I don’t know what’s worse, trying to kill yourself or living with the fact that you tried to kill yourself.”

This lament sums up the situation for Claire, the young woman at the center of “Letters Sent,” the new drama by local writer Janice Hibbard in its world premiere with Fat Turtle Theatre Company at the Indy Eleven Theatre.

Not every suicide comes with a note, but Claire (Lexy Weixel) wrote nine. She composed and sent them as snail-mail letters — bypassing the Internet for greater privacy — then went to her apartment bathroom and opened up her wrist. However, her mother, Florence (Kathryn Comer Paton), happened to discover her before it was too late.

The play begins with Claire cocooned in a bed in the attic of her mother’s house, just days after her discharge from the hospital. Adjusting to being not-dead is rough. We come to meet the people closest to her, including boyfriend/pseudo-brother (it’s complicated) Jack (Joe Barsanti), best friends Emma (Becky Lee Meacham) and Jane (Victoria Kortz), and her father, Robert (Doug Powers), who had moved to Florida after the divorce. Our story is set in Michigan, for a reason that soon becomes evident.

Claire’s mental progress is tracked through sessions with her therapist (Wendy Brown). Here we find that the letters were sent not only to the five people we meet, but also to four people Claire considered enemies — a final middle-finger to them on her way out, she says.

There does indeed seem to be progress, but the way isn’t easy, and when secrets held by those closest to Claire are uncovered, everything could come undone.

Weixel inhabits Claire perfectly, swinging from charming to childish to morose to wracked with guilt, constantly struggling with the messages from others as well as from within her head. Though the character, like the actor, is in her early 20s, Claire being at this life crossroads has regressed her into a sort of frustrated teenager. Still, she is relatable, someone you want to reach out to.

Paton, as a Mom who must maintain control as chaos terrifies her, is both Claire’s savior and a well-meaning obstacle to her recovery. Powers is the cool Dad, perhaps because he understands Claire’s struggle more than she knows. Barsanti’s Jack is a hot mess in his own way, and Kortz and Meacham are friends dealing with the desire to be supportive, but either too confident (Emma) or unsure (Jane) of exactly how.

The topics of mental illness and suicide seem to pop up quite often lately, even on stage. Just a couple of months ago, we had “Every Brilliant Thing” at the Indiana Repertory Theatre. One important lesson we get from both that play and this is that what we think will help won’t necessarily work — but given a chance, a spark from within can be what saves us. Will Claire find hers?

Directed by Fat Turtle artistic director Brandi Underwood, performances of “Letters Sent” run through March 24 at the Indy Eleven, a stage in the IndyFringe building, 719 E. St. Clair. For tickets and info, visit fatturtletheatre.com or indyfringe.org.

IRT: Happiness is a long list

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By Wendy Carson

Depression, suicide, and mental illness have all been highly stigmatized subjects. Only recently have we as a nation been broaching these topics, yet still refer to them in hushed tones.

In the Indiana Repertory Theatre’s staging of “Every Brilliant Thing” by Duncan Macmillan and Jonny Donahoe, we are presented with a unique look at someone dealing with the above issues through personal accounts of his experiences.

This is the story of a Man (no name is given) whose mother’s first attempt at suicide is when he is 7 years old. To somehow make sense of things, and help her heal, he begins to make a list of things that are worth living for. No matter how hard he tries to get this across to her, she seems to not listen. After a while the list is abandoned in the pages of a favorite book and forgotten.

During his college years, he begins wooing a girl and inadvertently loans her the book containing the list. She delights in the idea and returns it to him with a few of her own additions. The two continue adding to the list and he continues to send its contents to his mother, but to no avail. Her suicidal tendencies overwhelm her no matter what.

Since this is not a fairy tale, nobody lives happily ever after. The man and his girlfriend marry, then separate. The abandoned list resurfaces, only about 1,000 items shy of one million. How many more Brilliant Things can they add?

The story overall is quite endearing. It’s never too dark or too syrupy, but very true to the realities of the world. What sets it apart is the manner in which it is presented.

Prior to the show, lone performer Marcus Truschinski hands out postcards and other scraps of paper to various members of the audience. Each has a word or phrase on it along with a number. When he mentions that number – an item on the list – during the show, the person holding the corresponding card must shout out the information for all to hear.

There is a small section of audience seating at the rear of the stage which patrons can choose. Of course, these people will be incorporated into the show, as the script requires various other people to interact with Truschinski in order to tell the story. However, in a stroke of misdirection, audience members from all over are actually used.

True to the show’s fringe-festival roots, with its audience interaction each performance is entirely unique. Add to this Truschinski’s amazing improv skills and you have an evening of theater that is uplifting, thought provoking, touching, and enriching throughout.

Make a note to add this experience to your own list. Performances are through Feb. 10 on the upperstage of the IRT, 140 W. Washington St. in downtown Indy; call 317-635-5252 or visit irtlive.com.