BrokeAss Fringe 08/11/2011 9:13am

Editorial
Alright Fringers, let’s get two things straight, I love fairy tales and I love feminism. Beyond the magical aspect of fairy tales taking you on a journey and never apologizing for the random twists and turns, I am fascinated by the complexities of fairy tales as warnings for young women. I was very intrigued by Isabella Nelson and her ensemble’s Red Resurrected. The description of the piece on the Fringe website talks about it as a story about a young woman leaving home and her community and journeying out into the world. “Fuck yeah!”, I thought, “A retelling of Red Ridinghood that is pro-Red? I want to see that.” But, honestly, something was lacking here. This isn’t to say that the show was bad--because it’s probably one of the best I’ve seen yet. I really thought it was a lovely production. This is one of the most well created worlds I have entered in recent theater goings. The company’s ability to create a world through physical action, imagery, song, and sound was delightful to watch. This bedtime story is interwoven with physical movement so seamlessly, I felt like I’d fallen into the story itself. This group of collaborators really focused on getting the audience into their world and I loved that. What I was disappointed by was the storyline. Not to give everything away, but I wanted so badly for this show to take me on a journey about Red being her own woman, facing the wolf and not taking no shit from no one. Instead, I felt that we were watching things happen to Red throughout the entire show that she had no control over. There’s hints of a transformation, but Red essentially remains a passive agent throughout the show. Meanwhile, Anna Reichert’s stunning portrayal of a strong woman of the forest seemed to be passed over in favor for creating the catalyst for Red to enter the forest and begs to be further developed. This intelligent and heartfelt team of performers has all to tools to adapt the shit out of this tale, and I hope to see them develop this further (as they will continue to develop last year’s Ballad of the Pale Fisherman at the Illusion Theater). Until then, I’ll be left yearning for the strong female lead and a re-envisioning of traditional cautionary tales. In between shows, I got my brokeass home and made a quick, cheap picnic dinner. Then I biked myself over to the Rarig to catch Once Upon a Time in the Suburbs, with new hope that maybe a tall tale about how some kickass women tried to start a town would quench my desire for strong, active female roles. This show has a premise fit for a Queen. Framed as a tale told by a snarky grandpa to his slacker grandson about the origin of the ‘burbs, Brian Beatty’s luscious storytelling voice is like listening to a beautifully drunk Garrison Keillor. I adored the Ridiculous style this show embraced, with characters like the one-eyed, snarling Grace (Madde Gibba), who walked straight out of a John Waters film. Not to mention the bountiful armfuls of smart, clever gags: a gang of horse-bandits who ride into town on hobby-horse scooters? Amazing! But rather than having some strong women who fought to save their town and could laugh at themselves, I entered a world of lesbian jokes, self-commenting punchlines, and a bunch of women who thought that they needed a man to help them save their town. When that didn’t work, they got a hillbilly woman to come in and teach them how to be masculine. Spitting included. The entire premise stuck to the idea that men and women have natural attributes, like women are gentile and polite and men (or masculine women) are rough, unrefined and can kill things. Even as characters proclaim their feminist values to the hills, the strongest independent woman, the natural born leader, is stuck with pot shots at her latent butch lesbianism. Wha-wha. The Burbs is a silly romp, and I DID laugh my way through the whole thing. But like a repressed Mermaid of another myth’s fame, I want more.
Headshot of Rebekah Rentzel
Rebekah Rentzel
BrokeAss Fringe: Fringers! I'm Rebekah Rentzel. I love theater. Last year, I moved to Minneapolis the day the Fringe Festival opened. Bleary eyed and broke like a joke, I managed to see 12 shows on $10. One year later, I’m still broke and I’m still in love with theater. In my sparse amount of free-time I like to find free or cheap things to do in the city, and I co-write a blog about it called BrokeAssMPLS. This year, I'm also in the Fringe performing a solo-show called Tales of the Perilously Grounded. Huzzah!