Based on a true story (once upon a time) 08/05/2012 2:15pm

Editorial

Two Stools and a Murder: The Reality of the First 48 Partizan Theater’s production of Carol and Cotton Minnesota’s Crime of the Century grabbed my attention like an episode of The First 48. Here two actors in a tennis game of blame and responsibility conjure Carol and T. Eugene (Cotton) Thompson as well as others involved in St Paul’s 1963 murder case. James Vculek, doubling as writer/director, places the action around two stools in a purgatory-like void as the two speak directly to us, catching only momentary snapshots of conversation delivered to one another. This show is definitely worth seeing at the Fringe. It is beautifully acted by Catherine Johnson Justice and Steve Sweere- who create characters with endless levels in a fast paced piece. Steve Sweere dances his character shifts with smooth subtleness and gives heart, spirit, and mind to all of his moments of searching for answers. Catherine Johnson Justice never plays the victim but instead gives a powerful realness to her worries. She never gets ahead of the story-leaving Carol Thompson beautifully hopeful as she hears the telephone ring offstage at the fateful end. James Vculek has written a compelling script with many layers recreating the gruesome murder as told by Jackie- the hired hit man. He finds a wonderful pace bleeding the inner struggles of his characters with the horrific nature of a man having his wife killed. He convincingly creates a hit man that has morality about the nature of his work- without falling into the trap of easy answers. He writes beautifully quick scenes between Carol and Cotton that explain years of relationship drama in few broken lines. In the end he leaves us with the beautiful image of two people sitting alone-connected for many uncertain motives. Still, I could not fully appreciate this show because before the show, like most, I read the program handed to me in line: [Although “Carol and Cotton: Minnesota’s Crime of the Century” is based on historical incidents and real people, the author was obviously not present at any of these events and has no first-hand knowledge of what the participants were saying and thinking. Hence, the play should be considered a fictional re-imagining of what may have taken place and what the characters might have been thinking and saying. The play, then, is wholly a work of fiction.”] My mind was flooded with questions. What does he mean “wholly a work of fiction”? This piece is based on a court case- which is based on real people- which is based on what happened to these real people on March 6, 1963. If I wanted I could read case files, newspapers, books, scan pictures or even find video clips to prove how we reacted in 1963. How much fiction can you fit into a true story before the truth of that story becomes wholly a work of fiction? What does he mean by “no first-hand knowledge of what the participants were saying and thinking”? As an audience member I can make certain factual allowances for a piece based on a true story - but I also trust the writer to stay on target. As a writer I understand there are moments when you need to create a moment for your story to hold interest-but at some point do you not hold back on flourishes that detract from the overall trueness of your true story? I want to believe in my storyteller, I want them to convince me they have an idea of what could have been said because they understand what these people were thinking. Why was this program note asking for so many get out of jail free cards? I felt like I could get close to this story-but not too close. If I did feel an emotion for the story I felt cheated because the writer had “no first-hand knowledge” of what actually happened- therefore neither did I. I would not be able to share any fact I learned from this beautifully performed piece because “the author was obviously not present at any of these events.” I was excited to see this piece because murder cases are one of my favorite subjects. I love watching The First 48 because it examines a murder case as it unfolds over the first 48 hours; complete with a countdown clock to give an authenticity to the events happening right before your eyes. By the end of each episode you have walked through every moment of the case you know who, how, when, and with what- just like my favorite board game. I believe the stories because the show never mentions the camera crew, gaffer, boom op, editor, producer, and writers around each episode. I imagine if I knew who writes the First 48, edits Swamp People or holds the boom when I watch Storage Wars I might not get so wrapped up in each episode. In theatre you are also asked to believe in the reality being created for you without hesitation in its construction. No one should be asked to count the zippers and enjoy the dancing gorillas. Just Between You and Me: I wonder who ranks the crimes of every century?
Headshot of Ricardo Vazquez
Ricardo Vazquez
Based on a true story (once upon a time): As a classically trained actor I learned to study history as a template for dramatic action, character behavior and language with no room to deviate from the aesthetics of a given period. But, as a writer, free of any training, I find historical moments the most rich to draw from because they provide an outline for an event leaving the means of storytelling to the writer to recreate. What goes into a memory? What tools do we need to convey the past- presently- within the fast changing aesthetics of theater?