MR. BURNS Electrifies at ISU

Anne Washburn's Mr. Burns: A Post-Electric Play has been around since 2012, but it seems even more timely now than it did then. Are we edging closer to the kind of apocalypse Washburn envisioned? Probably. As other playwrights and authors continue to grapple with the end of the world, Washburn is the only one that uses The Simpsons, blending pop culture, humor and wit into her dystopic nightmare.

Washburn opens with a small group of survivors after some kind of nuclear meltdown. They are sitting around a fire, trying to occupy themselves by retelling a classic Simpsons episode, the one where Sideshow Bob plots to kill Bart by trapping the whole family on a houseboat. That's the "Cape Feare" episode, riffing on Cape Fear, the 1991 movie remake of the previous Cape Fear from 1962. As the survivors in Mr. Burns focus on the fragments of "Cape Feare" they can remember, they also drop desperate pieces of information about their current reality, the one where whole cities lie empty, supplies are limited, almost everyone is dead or missing, and the few who are left are wary of everyone else, guns at the ready.

From this minimalist beginning, we move seven years into the future for Act II, where the campfire group from Act I plus a few new friends are part of a traveling troupe of players whose stock in trade is now performing "Cape Feare," complete with commercials for things like chablis and Diet Coke, goodies they remember from their pre-meltdown life. We learn there are other rival companies trying to monopolize The Simpsons turf, lines from the show have become a sort of currency, and surviving is still a cut-throat business.

And in Act III, 75 years farther along, we see just how far this storytelling odyssey has taken humanity, as they now use Simpsons characters like Homer and Bart in a grand mythic pageant. The Simpsons -- or at least a version transformed, overwritten and mixed up by 75 years of retelling -- has become the ritual and scripture of the new world, layered with new meaning to try to make sense of what happened way back when.

By the end, Illinois State University's production of Mr. Burns: A Post-Electric Play plays like Greek tragedy, liturgy and Simpsons cosplay put in a blender, and that's exactly as it should be. Director Kristin L. Schoenback keeps the pace humming, with the necessary snap and crackle to hold an audience over three acts, and a strong overall vision of how and why we build stories.

The entire company is strong, doing equally well with the spontaneity of the early going and the stylization of the end. Thomas Russell and Johanna Kerber carry the narration nicely in Act I, while Megan Compton and Owen McGee step up as wannabe actors in Act II, and Sarah Ford and Everson Pierce face off sharply in Act III.

Scenic designers Allison McCarthy and John C. Stark, costume designer Amanda Bedker, lighting designer Laura Gisondi and properties manager Nick Chamernik make valuable contributions to the edgy and striking visual landscape that shifts from a dark campfire to a quick-and-dirty world of found objects and then a golden temple. I'm not sure who was responsible for the masks, but they're pretty nifty, too.

Choreographer Mattilyn Nation and fight choreographer Paul Dennhardt deserve credit for keeping things moving when they need to, and sound designer Morgan Hunter, music director Pete Guither and "chart hit" composer Jordan Coughtry up the ante on the aural side.

All in all, this Mr. Burns is provocative and snarky, with all the jagged pieces in place. It's also a helpful reminder to start memorizing Simpsons episodes now. You may need them in the coming nuclear apocalypse.

MR. BURNS: A POST-ELECTRIC PLAY
By Anne Washburn
Music by Michael Friedman. Lyrics by Anne Washburn

The School of Theatre and Dance at Illinois State University
Westhoff Theatre
February 16 to 24, 2018

Director: Kristin L. Schoenback
Music Director: Pete Guither
Choreographer: Mattilyn Nation
Fight Choregrapher: Paul Dennhardt
Scenic Designers: Allison McCarthy and John C. Stark
Costume Designer: Amanda Bedker
Lighting Designer: Laura Gisondi
Sound Designer: Morgan Hunter
Dramaturg: Nicole R. Kippen
Properties Master: Nick Chamernik
Chart Hit Composer: Jordan Coughtry
Assistant Director: Asa Wallace
Stage Manager: Kiara Irizarry

Cast: Paige Brantley, Erika Clark, Megan Compton, Sarah Ford, Emily Franke, Josh Harris, Lauren Hickle, Johanna Kerber, Emma Lizzio, Owen McGee, Daija Nealy, Everson Pierce, Pat Regan, Cody Rogers, Thomas Russell, Deanna Stewart and Caitlin Wolfe.

Running time: 2:30, including two 10-minute intermissions.

Powerful OEDIPUS Packs a Punch at ISU

Greek tragedies can be tough to bring to life for modern audiences, but playwright Ellen McLaughlin* has a real knack for adapting classical works into something that seems fresh and new. She's really good at making old stories like the The Trojan Women or the miserable history of the House of Atreus seem newly dramatic and alive.

That is also true of her Oedipus, which Illinois State University's School of Theatre and Dance is performing in Westhoff Theatre in repertory with All's Well That Ends Well through October 28. McLaughlin's version of Sophocles' Oedipus is poetic and lively, with vivid images and evocative ideas. This isn't easy stuff, not when the central character is a doomed man, prophesied at birth to kill his father and marry his mother, and his tragedy entails a lot of back story to get to the devastating reality of how the prophecy plays out. A look at the bloody poster for ISU's production (above left) should make it clear that Oedipus himself will not emerge unscathed.

For Illinois State, director Kristin L. Schoenback has chosen to fuel her Greek chorus with music, composed and directed by Cristian Larios. There are echoes of spirituals, Appalachian ballads and folk songs and maybe even Gregorian chants in Larios's haunting music, delivered with emotion and truth by the ten members of the chorus. Tori DeLaney, Sarah Ford, Rondale Gray, Malachi M. Hurndon, Owen McGee, Will Olsen, Simran Sachdev, Leah Soderstrom, Al Vitucci and Bobby Voss are just as good with the spoken parts they're given as they are with the sung sections, making this one Oedipus where the Greek chorus is a great deal more than an afterthought or an exclamation point. They're right at the heart of this Oedipus and they're terrific.

The chorus is part of an attention to detail here that speaks well of Schoenback as a director; both her principal and supporting players are excellent as they navigate the murky waters of this tragedy.

Grant Brown, who plays Oedipus, is strong and passionate, even when he is called upon to show us Oedipus's weaknesses, and Sarah Seidler is as lovely and tragic as she needs to be as Jocasta, Oedipus's mother as well as his wife. She has one long monologue that works beautifully, as Seidler finds moments of softness and quiet to contrast the heavy weight of Jocasta's pain.

Troy Schaeflin is polished and skillful as Creon, the advisor Oedipus willfully blames for his woes, while Deanna Stewart brings blind prophet Tiresias to life with righteous anger, Matt Byrne finds all the layers and humanity in a messenger bringing good and bad news, and Madison Gillis is properly conflicted as a shepherd with more answers than she really wants to share.

Schoenback's overall idea for her production is on target throughout, as she brings Oedipus straight into today, with members of the chorus as ordinary street people you might see anywhere. Kim Lartz's scenic design contributes to that concept, showing us that Thebes is a city in trouble, where its once pristine pillars are now stained with mold and mildew as well as graffiti, while Nicole Kippen's costumes delineate the difference between haves and have-nots. We see immediately that Oedipus and his circle are turned out in crisp, stylish clothing, perfectly laundered and pressed, in contrast to the shabby sweats and layers of gray his poor subjects wear. 

This is a sharp, pointed Oedipus, with words that hit close to home for America today.

If this is what you know of mercy, may you never be in need of it. Yours is a terrible nature, Brother. I would not have it for the world. Your great head is a locked box where you nurture grievance and shadow, startled by the echoes of your own frantic whispers coming back to you. Your reckless fury crackles like lightning through all your dark rooms. No, I don’t envy you, and never did, for all your power.

It's not hard to replace "Brother" with "Mr. President" or "Senator," is it?

The cast and crew of this production is
have joined together with the International Rescue Committee in an effort to raise funds "for the lost and suffering in our world." If you are interested in helping out, you can visit the International Rescue Committee’s Crowdrise page to donate to their campaign.

*McLauglin is an actor, writer and teacher as well as a playwright. As an actor, she originated the role of the Angel in Tony Kushner's Angels in America.