REVIEW: TRUSTUS THEATRE'S STUPID FUCKING BIRD

Trustus Theatre opened Aaron Posner’s Stupid Fucking Bird down on Lady Street on February 9th, under the direction of the theatre’s Executive Director, Jessica Francis Fichter. This play, which is advertised as “kinda based on” Anton Chekhov’s The Seagull, is a 2.5-hour experience that is “kinda” a comedy that explores family, love, unfulfilled potential, freedom, destruction, and art (all present in the source material on which it was kinda based). Trustus’ production is a winning moment for the theatre with a talented ensemble, adventurous technical execution and a team that not only had a deep understanding of what they wanted to try to do, but the expertise to make it a reality.  

Chekhov’s play is not essential to the audience’s engagement with Bird. Academics (read: theatre nerds) will enjoy the fun game of compare-and-contrast that this work allows, but the non-historian will be plenty occupied with experiencing the characters’ journeys, interacting with the actors in an environment without a fourth wall, exploring a dialogue regarding the authentic self and inviting their brains to ask, “what is art, why do we make it and why is it vital…or is it?”   

Stupid Fucking Bird concerns a stormy front of romantic and emotional entanglements amongst a family and their friends gathered at a large beach house. Conrad (Patrick Dodds) loves Nina (Cassidy Spencer), but Nina pines for Trigorin (Laurens Wilson) who is dating Conrad’s mom, Emma Arakdina (Erin Wilson). But wait, there’s more! Conrad’s platonic pal Mash (Martha Hearn) languishes for Conrad, and Dev (Cameron Muccio) swoons for Mash. The term “love triangle” doesn't suffice to explain the plot. Perhaps the geometrists in the crowd can do the math.  

As with all Chekhov and related materials, there must be an estate. Enter Dr. Eugene Sorn (Hunter Boyle), for whose attention all of these lover-friends are wrestling. Sorn is the only character who doesn’t have a love interest and is quite often the only sensible person in the room. Sorn’s questioning of whether we are ever our authentic selves is a particularly salient moment in the play.  

While there is a lot of frustration in watching these characters chase their misguided obsessions, the rewarding part of the Stupid Fucking Bird is the opportunity to engage in a discussion about art. Trustus is no stranger to material that has asked Columbia audiences to engage in this conversation (i.e. Yasmina Reza’s Art and Stew’s Passing Strange), and this type of work starts the dialogue within the walls of the theatre that evolves into colorful debate once you’ve cozied up to a bar afterwards.  

Trustus’ Bird has an excellent cast - not a weak link on stage. These are talented actors tackling challenging material, and they are in complete ownership of the proceedings. Patrick Dodds’ has played a wide range of roles since his first appearance at the theatre in 2011, but his portrayal of Conrad has probably been one of the most demanding jobs he’s taken on - and he delivers. Dodds succeeds in making us believe in his journey from obsession to destruction. His monologue towards the end of the first act, combined with the tech that was used, is jarring in the best kind of way.  

Erin and Laurens Wilson, in the roles of Emma and Trig, are a grounding and necessary presence for this cast which otherwise portray forlorn nihilists who refuse to stop thwarting themselves. Cameron Musccio makes a welcome debut on the Thigpen Main Stage with his Dev being an incredibly endearing straight-man-who-gets-the-laughs. Cassidy Spencer and Martha Hearn, as Nina and Mash respectively, turn in anchored performances. Hunter Boyle as Dr. Sorn exhibits more control and firmness than we’ve seen in recent years, and it is a delightful change of pace that leaves us hoping to see Boyle explore more roles like this - because it’s really really good.  

The production team deserves high marks for a finely-tuned scenic,  lighting, media, and sound design package. From moons that seamlessly cross the entire stage, to the simplicity of scene titles - Matt Pound has used different media outputs to make something quite complicated seem seamless. Paired with Marc Hurst’s sizzling lighting and Teddy Palmer’s use of the space as an abstraction of frames - these elements truly make you feel like you’re watching a production that was tailored down to the last stitch. We would also like to note that there is even a Shen Yun poster hidden in the mix (which can lead to a tangential conversation about art after the show). 

Though some music levels could be increased to improve audience-immersion throughout and tattoos could be better covered-up (or not covered?) as to not distract, Stupid Fucking Bird is a tight vehicle for the actors, designers, and audience. This is probably due to the work of Director Jessica Francis Fichter. We are very glad her voice is more prominent in Columbia’s theatre scene these days and look forward to more.  

If you’re into light comedic fare that intends to entertain by way of jazz hands, this is no play for you. However, if you’re just the slightest bit adventurous, enjoy conflict and the promise of a post-show arts salon: trust Trustus with this play. This is the kind of work that the theatre’s co-founders intended the theatre to produce, and true to form - whether you actually like the play or not - this is the only place you can experience work like it in these parts. Stupid Fucking Bird runs through February 24th at Trustus (520 Lady St.), and you can get your tickets to make up your own mind about this production at www.trustus.org. 

(edited 2/11/24)

REVIEW: Much Ado About Nothing at USC

Come, come, we are friends: let's have a dance ere
we are married, that we may lighten our own hearts
and our wives' heels. — Benedick, Much Ado About Nothing

In a cheeky twist on the title of Shakespeare’s comedy, Much Ado About Nothing, The UofSC Department of Theatre and Dance’s production of this First Folio play actually creates quite a bit of ado, or fuss, about a fairly straight-forward connivance—which was surely Shakespeare’s intention given that he wrote an entire play about a pair of vengeful practical jokes. But while this reviewer is nothing if not a fan of whimsy and irreverence, giving this production exceedingly high scores on the application of both, for some viewers the added bells and whistles might feel a bit gimmicky in places. That said, I had more fun at this production than at any of Shakespeare’s plays I’ve had the good fortune of seeing performed anywhere other than at the Globe or the Sam Wannamaker playhouse in London.

The key to the success of this production is its accessibility. And it is precisely the extraneous bonuses—the use of pop music, the incongruous costuming by Kristy Leigh Hall, the full-company pop-up choreography by Andre Megerdichian—that break through what sometimes seem to be immovable obstacles in the way of fully appreciating a play that was written in 1599 a full four hundred and twenty years later.

The reality is that enjoying Shakespeare requires work for even the above-average audience member. From the early modern English language, which was less than 100 years old when Shakespeare created the majority of his works (and subsequently recorded a few thousand words for the first time in history), to the patriarchal influences on casting, plot, and whether characters live happily ever after or not, fully appreciating Shakespeare can surely be enhanced by tactics and ploys that make the purpose of the play more meaningful to the audience.  

Perhaps director Dustin Whitehead had this in mind when he cast against gender several times in this production.

In the original play, Don John is the bastard brother, if you’ll pardon the anachronism, of Don Pedro (Nicholas Good). Don John, played with just the right amount of eye-rolling, cynicism, and indifference by Beck Chandler, carries a chip on his shoulder and likes to cause trouble where there is none. It is Don John’s interferences in the happiness of Claudio, a follower of Don Pedro, as he attempts to court and marry Hero, the daughter of Leonato who is the governor of Messina, a friend of Don Pedro’s, and the party’s host for a month of post-war R and R.

Through the machinations of Don John and his wicked sidekicks Borachio, played like sleaze in a leisure suit by Jacob Wilson, and Conrade, played against gender by Kinzie Correll, Claudio (Cameron Giordano) is led to believe that Hero (Ezri Fender) has been unfaithful. In a real dick move, Claudio waits until the wedding to accuse his betrothed of her dishonor, making the kind of scene that, in the 21st century, might more likely result in a well-aimed kick to the groin by the bride-to-be, but in Shakespeare’s day ostensibly causes Hero to fall out, faint, and, for all we know as we’re watching the play, die.

Here is where the cleverness of casting against gender, consequently creating a far more accessible message, comes in. Rather than cast Leonato as a man, Whitehead casts Leonata as a woman and has her played with great passion by Caroline Clarke. While at first Leonata condemns her daughter to death for her perceived transgression, the character ultimately becomes devoted to proving the innocence of her daughter and in what would have been read, with a male in the role, as a patriarchal defense of a family’s bloodline, the act becomes a feminist defense of a young woman’s integrity by a female champion.

Along those same lines, it is Friar Francis, played by Susan Swavely, who believes and defends Hero all along, and it is Constable Dogberry and partner, Verges, played brilliantly and also against gender by Cassidy Spencer and Lily Heidari respectively, who capture Conrade and Borachio and bring them to justice before Claudio and Don Pedro, clearing Hero’s name.

Consequently we have a version of the conflict resolution in Much Ado in which women band together to defend another unjustly accused woman, and I’m not sure what could be more 2019 than that.

It should be noted that in an overarching subplot of the play, which most might argue typically eclipses the primary plot, Beatrice, who is the niece of Leonata, engages in a classic Hepburn and Tracy/Muldur and Scully/Ross and Rachel romance with Lord Benedick, a soldier from Padua who fought in Pedro’s army. The couple, strongly played by Jordan Postal as Beatrice and Anthony Currie as Benedick, carry the weight of the characters well and shine particularly brightly during a musical interlude, set to an instrumental rendition of Lennon and McCartney’s “Come Together.” This is one of those places where Whitehead’s bonus bells and whistles really pay off. It is in this added intermezzo that the audience gets to witness the push and pull and all the acrobatics of a real love affair working its way into existence. Whereas Claudio declares his love for Hero and she basically says, Ok – Why Not? Beatrice and Benedick are strong-minded individuals who not only aren’t looking for love, they don’t want to identify themselves when love finds them. The audiences who see this version of Much Ado come away seeing the Beatrice and Benedick romance as real and meaningful rather than almost spiteful and trivial when depicted by dialogue alone.

It is, in many ways, the music that makes this performance progress particularly cohesively for a cast of primarily undergrad actors. And the stand out actors are the ones who begin the production in another added scene when Spencer and Heidari take the stage as the comically inept watchwomen sweeping up, preparing for the day, and ultimately singing and accompanying themselves on piano, as do several characters throughout the play. Having seen these young women perform lead roles this summer in Montgomery at Trustus Theatre it was a gift to see them together again. Spencer rises well to the traditionally comical challenge the character of Dogberry demands and Heidari is right there with her.

The lone MAT student, Amber Coulter, in the role of Margaret, also offers a stand-out performance, of note not only due to her comic timing but her confidence and ease of delivery, as well. Having performed in seven shows on the main stage at USC, (this reviewer remembers her from Top Girls and The Crucible), Coulter is a fine example of the kind of theatre artist the UofSC Department of Theatre and Dance can produce.

Though not a perfect performance—Benedick could project more, for example—the choreographed (or were they blocked?) numbers made up in enthusiasm for what they lacked in technique, and Michael Taylor in the role of Ursula wore a skirt like nobody’s business. Audience members laughed, tapped their feet, and smiled broadly at the closing number. It was a joyous performance and, at the end, we could ask for little more.

The performance runs Thursdays through Sundays until November 9th at Longstreet Theatre and tickets are available at tickets.vendini.com

-Cindi Boiter

Cindi Boiter is the editor of Jasper Magazine and the executive director of the Jasper Project.

REVIEW: Longing and Losing in Trustus's Fun Home by Alexis Stratton

There must be some other chances /

There’s a moment I’m forgetting /

Where you tell me you see me

                        --Alison, “Telephone Wire,” Fun Home

It can seem a little screwball at first—this Pennsylvania family with a perfect house and a demanding father, kids running around to clean up crayons and polish the silver, and a song-and-dance number performed by three kids on (and in and under) a casket. In fact, within the first few scenes of Trustus Theatre’s production of Fun Home, I wasn’t quite sure what kind of story I was stepping into.

Yet, as the production progressed, it became clear that these seemingly lighthearted and sometimes darkly humorous moments were just the first steps down a complex, moving narrative of memory, loss, and coming of age.

Based on Alison Bechdel’s 2006 graphic memoir Fun Home: A Family Tragicomic, the Tony-award-winning musical of the same name was adapted and brought to the stage in collaboration with Bechdel in 2009 by Lisa Kron, who wrote the book and lyrics, and Jeanine Tesori, who composed the music. It opened on Broadway in 2015 and was hailed for being the first Broadway musical to feature a lesbian protagonist.

Having read Bechdel’s Fun Home (as well as her popular comic series Dykes to Watch Out For and her second graphic memoir Are You My Mother?), I was aware of both the story of Fun Home as well as the politics surrounding it in South Carolina. In 2014, the South Carolina legislature cut funding for the College of Charleston when the university assigned Fun Home as part of its first-year reading project. The controversy resulted in months of protests, ongoing budget cuts, and rising fears regarding academic freedom among university programs and departments. (The university only had funding restored with the promise to use the money to teach the Constitution and other founding documents.)

Yet, while the controversy surrounding the memoir Fun Home grew out of its a portrayal of a young lesbian coming of age in the 1970s and 80s, at the heart of the story of both the book and the musical is Alison’s struggle to understand her father, Bruce, a controlling, emotionally abusive, closeted man who died suddenly when Alison was 19 (as we learn during the first few minutes of the production).

Directed by Chad Henderson, Trustus’s production of Fun Home brings us on a nonlinear journey through memory with adult Alison, played with a masterful mix of humor, pensiveness, and compassion by Robin Gottlieb. Accompanied by the skillful performances of an on-stage band (directed by Randy Moore) and with her narrative tied together by beautifully choreographed transitions, Gottlieb’s Alison invites us into the intimate spaces of her past where we meet her family, her first lesbian love interest, and, most notably, Alison’s younger selves, including the college-aged Medium Alison and the elementary-school-aged Small Alison.

In Trustus’s production, the most delightful moments of the story come through the performances of Small Alison and Medium Alison. As Small Alison, Clare Kerwin brims with a budding sense of self in songs like “Ring of Keys,” which details Alison’s initial recognition of an “old-school butch” in a small-town diner (“It's probably conceited to say / But I think we're alike in a certain way … / Do you feel my heart saying ‘hi’?”). And in practically every scene she appears in, Cassidy Spencer portrays Medium Alison with a comedic and endearing awkwardness, abounding with the nerves and excitement that come with coming of age—and coming out. (Most notable is Spencer’s performance of the song “Changing My Major,” in which she opines about her newfound love Joan, played with gentle confidence by LaTrell Brennan).

Yet, these lighthearted moments only serve to underscore the losses that adult Alison faces, as they are contrasted with escalating conflicts between the mercurial Bruce (deftly portrayed by Paul Kaufmann) and his wife Helen (whose strength and fragility are impressively captured by Marybeth Gorman), as well as his three kids (Clare Kerwin along with Christopher Hionis and Henry Melkomian, who play Small Alison’s brothers). Indeed, the most poignant moment of the musical emerges from this: While adult Alison acts as a sort of narrator of her own experiences throughout the production, she finally enters into one memory that leads to a heartbreaking duet (“Telephone Wire”) between Gottlieb and Kaufmann—and perhaps the most powerful performance of the whole production.

There is a sense of loss that pervades the musical—of a father’s image, of a family’s relationships. In the end, we sit with Alison in her joy and her grief, and we long with her, too—just one more moment, just one more—

It’s in that tension between memory and reality, adulthood and youth, longing and losing, that the impact of Fun Home is truly felt.

Alexis Stratton is a writer, editor, and film maker from Columbia, SC whose work has been published in a range of publications; they love bowties, social justice, and good art, and they think heaven must be a kind of library.

What: Fun Home

Where: Trustus Theatre, 520 Lady St. (www.trustus.org)

When: Thurs.-Sun. through April 14

Cost: $30 Thursdays and Sundays; $35 Fridays and Saturdays; $25 students (group discounts available)

Contact: 803-254-9732

REVIEW: Fun Home - The Queer Musical I Did Not Know I Needed

by Connie Mandeville

When I told my partner she was lucky enough to be my date to a musical that had a lesbian lead character, she was less than thrilled. “A musical?” she asked. Her skepticism was understandable. Accurately portraying the complexity of coming out on a stage through song and dance seems farfetched. But as we watched Alison Bechdel’s story unfold, we both saw parts of our own stories, our own struggles, but also our own victories in her experiences.

Fun Home depicts the story of a queer woman who grew up in a rural Pennsylvania town during the 1960s and 1970s. It also follows her journey of discovering her sexual orientation as a college student at Oberlin College in the 1980s. Based on the tragicomic memoir, the story is told by an adult Alison (performed by Robin Gottlieb) while she forces herself through both the happy and painful memories of growing up and coming out of the closet ultimately to write her book. These memories are portrayed through flashbacks with a small Alison (performed by Clare Kerwin) and a college-aged Alison (performed by Cassidy Spencer), and as revealed in the opening scene, these flashbacks are clouded by her father’s (performed by Paul Kaufmann) suicide. Although Alison is the center of the narrative, Fun Home is also the story of her parent’s tumultuous relationship because of her father’s bisexuality and extramarital affairs which led to his death. Her father’s experience living in the closet is touching, but her mother (performed by Marybeth Gorman) triumphs as the tragic hero of the tale because of the sacrifices she made not only to maintain appearances of a perfect nuclear family, but also to keep her family together.

What is so refreshing about the coming out story and queer experience in Fun Home is the balance of both the blissful excitement and the excruciating heartbreak of discovering one’s sexual orientation. It is not an exploitation of queer pain, but instead a celebration of self discovery which is emphasized by solos wonderfully performed by Kerwin and Spencer. From Alison’s nervousness and excitement to attend her first Gay Straight Alliance meeting, to her feelings of validation at her very first sighting of a butch woman, this is more than just the story of her parent’s rejection when she first came out to them. Alison even has a moment of complete ecstasy the first time she sleeps with another woman, a moment so groundbreaking she burst out into song about changing her major to sleeping with her new girlfriend. Although the pains and pleasures of coming out are weaved together to create an accurate representation, Alison’s masculine gender expression is often conflated with sexual orientation which is inaccurate and borderline transphobic. A young girl rejecting dresses and other gender stereotypes does not always lead to a lesbian identity, and there are many transmen who date men.

In the wake of the MeToo Movement, there were aspects of Fun Home that were problematic. Her father is a teacher who had sex with male students who were underage, which is not only statutory rape, but it also perpetuates the stereotype of gay men preying on young men. Her father’s predatory behavior is never fully addressed except for one flippant comment from her mother. It is understandable to overlook her father’s abuse of power not only because of the circumstances of his death, but also because it is difficult to fairly judge someone you love so much. Additionally, Fun Home, both the tragicomic and musical, was created before the MeToo Movement went viral so the writers most possibly lacked the social context to delve into Alison’s father’s crimes.

Despite the tragedies of Alison’s life, Fun Home is not a depressing tale. Instead, the brutally honest depiction of coming out as a lesbian in a rural area was the queer musical I did not know I needed. 

Trustus Theatre to Open Tony Award Winning Musical - FUN HOME - featuring Robin Gottlieb

“What would happen if we spoke the truth?” 
- Alison Bechdel

Trustus Theatre continues its dedication to bringing important theatre to Columbia with their production of Fun Home, an acclaimed and award-winning Broadway musical to their Thigpen Main Stage this spring. The musical is a masterful expansion of Alison Bechdel’s graphic memoir of the same name about being able to live in your truth, whatever it may be. 

When her father dies unexpectedly, graphic novelist Alison dives deep into her past to tell the story of the volatile, brilliant, one-of-a-kind man whose temperament and secrets defined her family and her life. Moving between past and present, Alison relives her unique childhood playing at the family’s Bechdel Funeral Home, her growing understanding of her own sexual orientation, and the looming, unanswerable questions about her father’s hidden secrets. Fun Home is a refreshingly honest, wholly original musical about seeing your parents through grown-up eyes.

Fun Home’s book and lyrics were written by Lisa Kron with music by Jeanine Tesori. Based on Bechdel's graphic memoir (2006), Fun Home was the winner of several awards at the 2015 Tony Awards including Best Music, Best Score (Jeanine Tesori & Lisa Kron), and Best Book of a Musical (Lisa Kron). Fun Home also won the New York Drama Critics’ Circle Award, Obie Award, Lucille Lortel Award, Outer Critics Circle Award, and the Off-Broadway Alliance Award for Best Musical.

Trustus Theatre Artistic Director Chad Henderson is excited to help bring this musical to life on Trustus Theatre’s stage as the play's director.  “I directed the production at Pure Theatre in Charleston, SC earlier this year. It sold out and is coming back to Pure for Piccolo Spoleto. So right on the heels of directing that production, I’m returning to my home theatre and working with a great team of Columbia actors and designers. I can already tell that this will be a very different production because all of the artists involved in the project are bringing their own unique reactions to the piece to the table.

“At the heart of Fun Home is a story in which we can all see ourselves," Henderson says. "Examining the truth of our past, looking past the myths we create about our parents when we’re younger, dealing with the societal challenges of being our most authentic selves—these are themes that many of us can relate to. These ideas are explored through the eyes of a lesbian cartoonist who, 20 years after her father’s suicide, is finally ready to look deeper into her relationship with her family and dissect the things she never understood. On the surface, Fun Home could seem like a tragic evening in the theatre. However, the beauty of this piece is that it’s incredibly uplifting and provides us with a feeling of hope by the end.”

Paul Kaufmann, of Season 33’s A Bright Room Called Day, will be playing the role of Bruce Bechdel, Alison’s father. “Playing Bruce is a great challenge,” says Kaufmann. “He’s a character who’s put himself in such a scary and difficult position, and his actions cause great upheaval in his family. Despite that, he somehow has to try and justify his actions to himself. He is deeply in denial about the costs of creating those justifications. He’s trapped himself and ultimately is not successful in finding ‘a way through’ as he sings in one lyric," Kaufmann says. 

"Fun Home is such a ‘Trustus show’—with a small cast and a thoughtful, deep, and beautiful play that cries out for sensitivity and compassion—it’s an honor to perform it. My fellow cast mates, several of whom I’ve had the pleasure to work with for years, are phenomenal actors and singers. Our young cast mates are top notch—they’re really dedicated and are doing an amazing job. Randy Moore is teaching us the complicated but beautifully layered score and Chad is guiding us through this intricate piece with a strong vision. The process of putting it together so far has been truly rewarding.”

Paul Kaufmann

Cassidy Spencer is bringing the role of one of the three Alisons, Medium Alison, to life. “I think my favorite part about playing Medium Alison is how clumsy and awkward this character is in an endearing way that we can all relate to,” says Spencer. “She often seems to unabashedly say things that many of us think or otherwise, she illustrates feelings that we’ve all experienced, like powerful crushes on our peers or intense nerves. This character is so honest and so charming, and I’m thrilled to bring her to the stage. ...this show is vastly beautiful—not only in its music and story—but in its characters, its message, and its subject area. It drew immense attention when it came to Broadway and I think it’s fantastic that Trustus is bringing the musical to Columbia.”

Stay after the shows on Friday, March 30 and on Friday, April 6 to enjoy an improv comedy show from the very same group that brought you the holiday comedy A Christmas Miracle at the Richland Fashion Mall: The Mothers. Tickets for the comedy show will be sold at the door for $10 ($5 for students) and are all general admission.