“Watching the show feels as close to an evening on Lady Street as possible - you can almost smell the Cromer’s popcorn.”
Trustus bills The Thanksgiving Play as “a woke comedy” and that’s apropos. Larissa FastHorse’s play follows four white people - Logan, Jaxton, Caden, and Alicia - in their attempt to creatively devise a culturally sensitive play about the First Thanksgiving for Native American Heritage Month. They stumble over many obstacles - mainly themselves and each other - on their quest to craft an engaging, equitable educational show and ultimately arrive at the simplest of conclusions that less is indeed more.
FastHorse wastes no time establishing tone; we know what we’re in for from the jump. The play begins with a Thanksgiving rendition of “The Twelve Days of Christmas,” complete with Indian, Pilgrim, and turkey costumes, and choreography that the cast performs with full commitment. These surreal interludes - snippets from the play that might come from the group’s endeavor - recur throughout and serve to break up the realistic scenes with blasts of musical comedy. It’s a pleasing combination.
Consumer culture, linguistic cliches, gender bias, social media, “upcycling”, vegans, etc. - all are placed on the altar or chopping block, whichever metaphor you’d prefer, and while this play’s glut of contemporary issues could feel tiresome, they are integrated perfectly with the story. Most effective are discussions about the fantasy of a “post-racial” society and what it means to be an ally, and a lovely scene between Alicia and Logan concerning the values of sex and beauty, the dangers of their commodification, and the value of their power. FastHorse tackles big issues head-on and lays out all the angles, but rather than smashing you over the head, she builds them in tactfully.
FastHorse also skewers the craft and politics of theater expertly. Often, plays about making plays come off as obnoxious and cliquish, but The Thanksgiving Play manages to poke fun at devising, improv, warm-ups, and the like without alienating non-thespians. Furthermore, she squeezes in some terrific commentary about casting issues that plague the industry, from the well-past-timely death of so-called colorblind casting to the usual excuses of producers and directors about how hard it is to find ethnic actors to fill roles appropriately. At one point, Alicia mentions that she’s “maybe part-Spanish” so she should get to play all the Spanish roles because “it’s a drop thing.” We cringe, but it’s real.
Kayla Cahill Machado is solid as Logan, the embattled high school drama teacher who needs this project to succeed - there’s grant money on the line and a professional actor in the room. Machado drives much of the action of the play and juggles empowering everyone with keeping the project on the rails. We feel her pain.
Patrick Dodds brings his usual charm and affability to Jaxton, the yoga practitioner and “professional” actor. Jaxton’s heart is in the right place, but his desire to do right by everyone all the time gets in his way of being effective. Dodds’s Jaxton comes off a little too young and dumb at times, but the actor’s passion and vulnerability easily make up for it.
Clint Poston as Caden is winning from his first entrance. He nails Caden’s enthusiasm and thirst for knowledge and drives the pace in much needed moments. Caden wants so badly to be useful and to have his hard-won authority recognized, and Poston channels his desperation with a sweetness that cuts through his pretension.
Brittany Hammock plays Alicia (pronounced uh-LEE-see-ya, because of course it is), the self-centered actress with a “super-flexible” look to a tee. Her enthusiastic cluelessness and well-intentioned cynicism both give the group fits and inspire them to rethink their way of being. Hammock steals many scenes with her dry delivery.
Director Abigail McNeely has done a nice job making an ensemble out of her performers while allowing them to play to their strengths. The scenes are dynamic and flow nicely; McNeely clearly knows the story and where the most important parts are and highlights them to great success. The production suffers at times from pacing issues, particularly in the early going, but the actors find their footing as the action builds. The inventive staging and exciting feel of the interludes is a testament to the director’s expansive vision.
It is a treat to see a true box set. Many contemporary plays are filmic in that they employ shorter scenes and multiple locations, making realism an impossibility. Film does realism better than theater, but a realistic stage production is still a satisfying endeavor for artists and audiences alike. FastHorse’s employment of a single location - outside of the musical interruptions - allows for the production team to create a fully inhabited world onstage. Scenic Designer Sam Hetler is up to the task; his set feels just like an American high school drama classroom. The attention to detail provides lots of little surprises for us to find, like old Columbia theater posters on the back wall and a masquerade-themed bulletin board urging us to “put your mask on.” Clever.
Curtis Smoak’s lighting is cheery with just the right touch of industrial, mimicking the unpleasant wash of public fluorescents while warmly supporting the actors and the space they inhabit. The choice to forgo lighting shifts when two characters are having a private conversation in a public space is confusing; the helpful theatrical convention of separating the groups with light to assist the audience’s understanding should apply, even in a realistic piece like this. During the interludes, the lights shift dramatically to make the performers pop along with the musical numbers, giving it a bit of a rock cabaret vibe.
The recording of this production is well done. The shots and the sound are both clear and we get the feel of watching a play live and in person magnified through the camera’s eye and microphones. That said, shot selection is often static in the scenes and much more dynamic in the interludes, and the editing needs to split the difference more. More often than not, the scenes are played out in a wide shot with close-ups and two-shots few and far between. This might have been an attempt to preserve the piece as a play as much as possible, but if you’re going to make a film, make a film.
That being said, it’s hard not to notice that the element that gives live theater its power is sorely missing here. As if comedy weren’t hard enough already, taking away the audience puts the performers in a tougher spot, and they respond by pushing in moments where the support of laughter or other audible reactions would otherwise buoy them. Trustus deserves applause for making theater - and polished theater at that - safely, but the interplay between actor and audience is what makes theater...well, theater.
In its first attempt at producing a fully mounted show for home consumption, Trustus delivers a quality product and should be commended for adapting to these trying times. Watching the show feels as close to an evening on Lady Street as possible - you can almost smell the Cromer’s popcorn. Format-associated growing pains aside, The Thanksgiving Play is well worth your time and your donation and should inspire some spirited conversation at your virtual Turkey Day dinner table.
Patrick Michael Kelly is the theatre editor for Jasper Magazine.
