Important work

Review

There’s no question why local companies are producing politically relevant plays, or remounting shows that were timely when they first opened yet are even more fitting now. 20% Theatre Company did both of those and more by reviving The Pink Unicorn, a show that offers storytelling in its truest form. It’s the kind of storytelling that allows us to confront our prejudices at this crucial time; storytelling that should be spread beyond our bubble and into others.

Sporting cowboy boots and drinking what looks like sweet tea, Mykel Pennington plays a small-town Texas widow named Trisha Lee. What starts as a casual conversation about her child grows into a tale of identity and acceptance. Trisha’s teenager, introduced by the mother as Jolene and later as Jo, is starting high school when she announces she is genderqueer and sets off to launch a Gay-Straight Alliance chapter at the local high school. We witness the mother’s reaction and then action as she faces life in her conservative, Christian town while trying to support Jo.

Trisha takes us through confrontations with church and school officials (whose message of not wanting certain people there is all too familiar). By making friends with people she only saw as outcasts before, re-defining her relationships with other family members, and following her love for her child while the life she knew collapses, Trisha confronts her prejudices. Admitting all sorts of difficulty in doing so, she discovers the importance of standing up for people society is trying to smother.

Story telling at its finest

Playwright Elise Forier Edie’s text is rhythmic, moving, and funny. It’s peppered with middle-American quips that lighten the mood without distracting from the material. Director Meghan Gunderson (presumably taking some cues from original director Claire Avitabile) establishes a pace that gets us close to the heart of the material quickly. At 90 minutes, the one-woman show is full yet tight—the makings of great storytelling.

And then we have Pennington. She’s commanding but restrained as the mother unwilling to be in the spotlight but determined to tell this story because she thinks it could do some good. She is profound in the play’s peak moments, like when Trisha stands on a chair and recounts pretending to be a boy during childhood games, which unlocks a door to understanding how her child feels. Pennington manages to be comical, credible, and, most importantly — relatable.

Because we can’t all relate to having a teenager whose identity exceeds our understanding, or to living in a place where nearly everyone is opposed to difference. But we can relate to having prejudices and experiences that challenge what we thought we knew before. Trisha talks us through dealing with these prejudices and invites the audience to self-examine without defensiveness or denial. She admits to having harsh — and even ugly — thoughts, but her honesty allows us to empathize with her journey. Pennington personifies storytelling’s ability to help us experience another person’s soul and learn from it as though it is our own.

Bursting bubbles

My biggest problem with the play is that according to the playwright’s website, it’s only being produced here and in Pittsburgh this year — two cities that of course struggle with prejudice. Yet I couldn’t help but think, how great would it be if this particular production was performed somewhere closer to the place it was set? I believe that it is so well-executed and accessible it has a capacity to get all sorts of people to re-assess their assumptions. We do need that here, and the performance was helpful and cathartic. Listening to fellow audience members’ sobs starting midway though the show affirmed the play’s power. I just hope it does not and will not always preach to the choir.

I don’t mean to suggest it is up to this particular theater company to do this. It’s a larger question: If a play has the potential to challenge people in a productive way, how can we put it in front of more eyes that need it? And who’s to judge who most needs it? And, as it takes places of safety and understanding to create work like this, is it feasible to then push it out to places where people might be even more challenged by it?

These are just some thoughts by someone The Pink Unicorn energized to think about storytelling and all its potential.

Headshot of Hailey Colwell
Hailey Colwell

Hailey Colwell studied journalism and writes plays. She is interested in how the theater and the press work for and against each other.