Trustus Offers A Smart, Thought-Provoking Marjorie Prime

By Frank Thompson

While talking with a good friend just before the performance of Trustus Theatre’s Marjorie Prime, I picked up a most interesting statement which I wish I could claim as my own. “I steer away from using the term science fiction when describing this show, because I don’t want to scare people away.” Aside from a small internal grumble that quite a few of us would love to see a play grounded in science fiction, I completely understood his point. Marjorie Prime, playing a limited engagement through this weekend at Trustus Theatre, may not involve spaceships, light sabers, or fiendish plots by alien villains bent on ruling the universe, but it takes a near-future scientific development and explores how technology can (and does) alter the human experience. Staged on the diagonal, (or on the bias for those who sew) the show is viewed much in the style of a football or basketball game, with the audience observing from the bleachers on both sides. While on the surface a fun, clever, idea for giving Marjorie Prime a fresh look, the seating also subtly reinforces the adversarial nature between Marjorie (Len Marini) and her daughter, Tess (Becky Hunter.) As with a sporting event, the teams have firmly established end zones. Marjorie seldom, if ever, ventures beyond her sitting room, which is located on one end of the set. Her computer-generated husband, Walter (Clint Poston) never leaves her side, moving to a quiet space just behind her chair when he needs to disappear. Tess, for the most part, remains solidly in her comfort area of the kitchen, located as far as possible from Marjorie, while her husband, Jon, (Glenn Rawls) works the entire playing space, underscoring his role as referee and peacemaker. Hats off to director Elena Martinez-Vidal for this visually and dramatically effective detail in blocking.

Martinez-Vidal has also clearly worked her team of pros on digging deeply into Jordan Harrison’s script, a 2015 Pulitzer Prize Finalist. Without revealing too many specifics, the gist of the story is that in the year 2050, the technology exists to create replicas of deceased loved ones. As with many of today’s smart devices, the more it learns, the more accurately the simulation can tailor itself to its users’ needs and memories. When elderly Marjorie starts spending more and more time talking to her ersatz husband, (long dead, but here appearing as she recalls him; a handsome man in early middle age) Tess begins to worry about the psychological and ethical implications of the arrangement. Jon simply wants to preserve household peace while defending an almost 90-year-old woman’s right to be happy in her final years, opting to simply indulge Marjorie in enjoying what seems to him little more than a child’s toy. As the show progresses, the very concepts of reality and simulation begin to intersect, ending with a fully resolved plot that still manages to leave the audience with questions. If your plans for the evening include a drink with fellow playgoers after seeing Marjorie Prime, I promise you’ll have plenty to discuss.

The cast is a well-known quartet of Columbia theatre regulars, with Len Marini turning in a tour-de-force performance in the title role. Her Marjorie is aged and infirm, but still sufficiently aware of her surroundings to wage an ongoing battle of wills against her daughter, a dynamic through which Marini succeeds at demonstrating an iron will inside a rapidly-declining body, with a mind in the early stages of dementia. Marjorie is neither all victim nor all aggressor, and Marini creates a three-dimensional character with whom the audience sympathizes, but isn’t afraid to allow Marjorie to occasionally wander into the grey area of human nature.

As the incarnation of Walter, Marjorie’s late husband, Clint Poston shines in a fine example of stylized acting that impresses in both its subtlety and effectiveness. As it is revealed (minor spoiler alert) that Walter is still relatively new, he asks lots of questions, and often responds in an intelligent, yet childlike manner. I was reminded of the vocal cadence of Iain Armitage, the child actor in the title role of the TV series, Young Sheldon, as Poston delivered his perfectly-crafted sentences with an innocent lilt to his speech. The show’s opening scene, with Poston’s youthful singsong playing against Marini’s realistic older-person vernacular, is one of the show’s most fascinating, as it begins to define the reality of the script’s universe. The slightly disjointed quality to their wordplay establishes a set of rules in which we soon discover that truth and fantasy have become more subjective concepts in the near future.

Becky Hunter, as usual, turns in a solid, textured performance as Tess, Marjorie’s realistic and put-upon daughter. In her early fifties and frustrated by her role as caretaker to her elderly mother, Tess yearns for a life of her own, yet takes her filial duties to heart. Hunter gives the audience glimpses of the girlishness still alive in Tess, while overlaying her interpretation with a world-weariness oft associated with those who have been forced to grow old before their time. In the hands of a less skillful actor, Tess could have come off as shrill or unlikeable, but Hunter infuses the role with an undeniable warmth and obvious love for Marjorie and Jon.

Speaking of Jon, somehow this was my first time seeing Glenn Rawls onstage, and I do hope it won’t be the last. With a four-or-five day scruff and an untucked sports shirt, Rawls brings to life easygoing peacemaker, Jon, which may well be the most layered role in Marjorie Prime. While an interesting person in his own right, Jon is also the lens of reality through which we are able to catch an accurate glimpse of the other three characters. Rawls establishes Jon as an individual by the sincerity and realism with which he handles sharing a home with a dysfunctional parent/child team, the latter of whom happens to be his wife. Jon is far from cheerless, yet Rawls invokes a feeling of hopeful melancholy in his interpretation. Jon has not given up hope, but he has abandoned unrealistic optimism.

On the tech side, Sam Hetler’s set is sleek and minimalist, as is usually the case in the intimate Side Door Theatre at Trustus. Hetler has done his usual fine job of making use of every inch of available space, and in making a black box space seem roomy. Laura Anthony’s lighting is also somewhat basic, yet never feels skimpy. One of her best effects occurs when a specific twist in reality happens repeatedly as a plot device. A simple pop of light, (accented by an appropriate noise from Sound Designer Patrick Michael Kelly) lasting maybe a second, clearly establishes what otherwise could be a somewhat confusing plot convention. Costume Designer Abigail McNeely has dressed her actors in contemporary casual, which suits the script perfectly. Any attempt to suggest a “futuristic” fashion sense would have robbed this cerebral piece of its grounding in reality, and McNeely has wisely avoided such.

Part family drama, part cultural think piece, and part morality play, Marjorie Prime also has a sprinkling of The Twilight Zone about it. It’s an intelligent and provocative work that reflects Trustus’ mission to present new and timely theatre, as well as a most enjoyable show. The run is limited, with performances 13-16 November, at 8pm, with a 2pm matinee also on Saturday. Tickets can be ordered online at Trustus.org, or by ringing the box office on (803) 254.9732.

Frank Thompson is proud to serve as Theatre Editor for JASPER.