Filling in the gaps 08/05/2013 - 11:37am

Editorial
Still in shock from my first gulp of 2013 Fringe lake water, only to find that it warmed my chest and blurred my eyes a bit. Alright, recalibrate, you soppy mess. Hello Stranger - Rarig Thrust Or, in which i perform in the fringe More info How to Swear Like a Minnesotan was sold-out so we ambled over to Hello Stranger. Laughing and chatting and digesting the previous show in line like your average Fringe-goer. The ticketing volunteer oohs and ahhs over my Gold Pass (thanks, Alan) and coyly shares that she too is a celebrity--her face is on our tickets. Too cool. My friend and I enter the Thrust and remember the last time we were in this space together. Transatlantic Love Affair’s Ash Land. Imaginative and troubling. Objectivity was hard with that one. Anyways, we grab seats and keep gabbing as I scan the audience again to gage this crowd. Three people of color in this crowd full of performers and old hand Fringers. Lots of conversation since everyone in theater seems to know (or known of) everyone else in theater. A few people seem to have entered alone. Hmm. Look away. I stretch my arms across my chest like I’m warming up for a run (which I am) when a woman in black approaches us. “You two are in my special seats. Want to be part of the show?” Here’s the thing: I honestly dislike audience participation. I find it painful and awkward, forced and irritating. I came to see real performers, not some ego-driven presumptuous bum in the audience with a microphone. Gah. Fighting all instincts, I scribbled away my right to sue or die during the show and tried to keep it cool. Holy shit. Now who was that ego-driven presumptuous bum in the audience? Phones, lights, voice-over, inhale. I had no idea what to expect with this one. But the combination of a delighted and laughing audience, a self-aware and sharp script, and some impressive teamwork from this cast and crew created an honestly enjoyable show. What fun. The shadow puppets were hilarious. Blake Thomas’ music was perfect. Debra Berger was honest and angsty--and downright charming. This show had a heartbeat--and I hear that’s the secret to live theater and an involved audience. Here is a woman who battles herself, a slew of props, an unceasing voice-over, and confused audience members to guide us towards each other. Sure, it’s messy--and that’s the point and we all get it and that’s what wins us over. Not pretending here. No bows on packages. No manicured nails. Lots of panting and hopeful smiling. I won’t give away the show - it depends too much on you walking in like an unsuspecting but open-minded audience member - but let’s just say my Classicist friend was very happy. And getting up onstage when people have not paid (and even wanted) to see you is really weird. What am I doing here? How should I be? Am I trying too hard? What if I fart? Who’s in the audience? Am I overthinking this? Does it show? Does it matter? But the audience was great and we made Debra laugh, which I take as high praise. And you know what? It was uncomfortable, it was organic, it was fun. This show will make you smile and appreciate the ritual of entering an audience to create something new in 60 minutes. Shouldn’t all theater do something of the sort? I love the intentional usage of humor and honesty to bring an audience together, to force them to interact more directly with one another, to bridge gaps and offer something for the future. Humor is a powerful tool and this team has honed it well. And even if you are a jaded, critical, suspicious purveyor of theater like myself, you might find your instincts challenged and caught off-guard by this honesty.
Headshot of Lisa Hu
Lisa Hu
Filling in the gaps: Musings from a mind bustling with questions amidst the chaotic shenanigans of the Fringe: Who hardcore Fringes when? How are we products of our environments? Do these shows interact with one another? Does it matter?