Fringe Lab: Experimental Performance 08/09/2011 4:37am

Editorial
Hypothesis “A continuation of our exploration of the works of Edgar Allen Poe, this show delves into the lives of Roderick and Madeline Usher, with inspiration pulled from Poe's short story ‘The Fall of the House of Usher.’” (taken from the show page on the Fringe Festival website) Method Part literary adaptation, part original work, House of Usher is a one-act narrative play that seemingly provides a backstory to the “Fall of the House of Usher,” but also appears to be a semi-biographical, semi-speculative look at Poe himself—namely his authorial intentions in writing not only the titular story, but also the poem “Annabel Lee.” The play features co-playwright Jenn Aubin as Madeline Usher, Paul Brutscher as Roderick Usher, Dan Aubin as Edgar Allan Poe, Rachel Piersdorf as Annabel Lee, and Steve Schmalz as Usher (Rockerick and Madeline’s father). Results I love literary adaptations—they’re a book nerd’s pet obsession. I love seeing the ways in which a reader interprets the soul of a story they love, one that’s lived inside them long enough to take on a life of its own. And Poe is one of my favorite authors. I was hoping those two factors alone would be enough for me to unequivocally enjoy this show. Unfortunately, they weren’t—not unequivocally, anyway. I equivocated at several points. The first was when my hopes for a Gothic phantasmagoria were somewhat deflated by the show's aesthetic. The set, costumes, and chaise lounge reminded me of Henry Higgins's library in my high school production of My Fair Lady—more dreary British manor than glowering Gothic castle. The actors were all very good—even if Jenn Aubin and Paul Brutscher overacted the overly revealing opening scene (which Dan Aubin countervailed by underacting). It’s tough for actors to pull off a convincing portrayal of words that seem high-flown even by Gothic standards, but these three did an admirable job. At moments I was tempted to believe this was a parody of Gothic fiction in the style of Angela Carter—pull out the big guns (rape, incest, and murder—parricide, no less!) all in the first minute or so, and then, once that’s out of the way, spend some time really getting to know the characters and the fictional (and ideological) world they inhabit. I did see some elements of such an approach throughout the play, but not enough to convince me that this theatrical “lifting of the skirts” was anything other than a device to grab the audience’s attention…and that disappointed me. (Note to all emerging playwrights: I’m sitting in a dark theater with nothing to look at but your play. I paid twelve bucks to get in. You already have my attention. Just jump in and go with it!) After the Big Reveal, all Madeline’s and Roderick’s hints and allusions were needlessly repetitive rather than tantalizing. (Note to parents as well: contrary to what the website suggests, this isn’t a children’s show. Some of you may be comfortable with your twelve-year-old seeing a play that contains rape, murder, and incest, but I doubt all of you will be.) There were other problems with the script as well—at times it wasn’t clear if the story was intended to expand on the world of Madeline and Roderick Usher, or to illustrate that there were real people who directly impacted Poe’s life and work, or to suggest that Roderick Usher was a fictionalization of the author himself—nervous constitution and all—by bringing the two together in the same narrative. (Poe intentionally left the narrator of “The Fall of the House of Usher” unnamed.) In summary: the script could use some editing and rewriting, but first, the writers need to clarify what the real story is and work to bring it to the surface. That’s going to entail some hard decisions about what belongs here (anything that points toward the central narrative) and what doesn’t (anything that points away from the central narrative). What the co-playwrights (Jenn Aubin and Shelley Johnson) did very well in their adaptation was to strike a balance between the things that make readers and audience members want to follow a story from beginning to end (conflict and character) with the things that keep us coming back after it’s all over (mood, voice, and tone). For a literary adaptation, such a balance is essential if you want to put on a show that speaks equally to those who have read the book and those who haven’t. Although it’s hard for me to say for certain, having read the story many times, I can sense that even if I hadn’t read it, I would have still been able to follow along without getting utterly lost—the sequence of events was all fairly clear from beginning to end. There is a buildup of dramatic tension throughout the show, all of which leads, with precision timing, to a beautifully creepy ending both Poe fans and the uninitiated are likely to enjoy. It gave me goosebumps. (Of course, there is also something to say for a literary adaptation that’s written entirely for those who are intimately familiar with the source material and want to become lost in a whirl of passionate attention to the text—and after I see The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, I’ll know exactly what that “something” is.) Conclusion On the whole, despite some structural problems (and my personal dislike of their aesthetic), the show works as a piece of more or less conventional theater and narrative storytelling—in other words, the company delivers on its promise. It certainly does delve into the lives of Roderick and Madeline Usher. And it gives book nerds a chance to revel in something they love—seeing their favorite stories come to life.
Headshot of Sarah Wash
Sarah Wash
Fringe Lab: Experimental Performance : All art is an experiment. But some experiments are more…well, experimental…than others. With some, you know pretty well what the results will be. With others, you can't be sure. What do you get when you mix baking soda with vinegar? Carbon dioxide (and, on occasion, an enthused five-year-old). What do you get when you put on a show and there's no one to see it?