Aaah, dammit, Teddy (Ari Eckley) has neurosyphilis! But who gave it to her? Was it Jeff (Reid Clark), an old lover now ensconced in Canada, in marital bliss? Was it the other Jeff (Walter C.A. Riddle), a brutish, aggressive man who sought to take advantage of Teddy’s people-pleasing nature — and did? Was it the indifferent Morgan (Aron Spellane), or Armand (Clarke), whose interest in Teddy stops at the moment of orgasm, after which he can focus his attention on an item on E-Bay upon which he is bidding?
In playwright Caitlin M. Caplinger’s story, the search for the infector soon takes second place to an examination of Teddy’s miserable love life. Her male lovers are hyper-critical, arrogant, uncaring, and generally useless. Her female lovers appear to be of a better lot, but none of those relationships provide lasting satisfaction, either.
It is clear that Teddy is suffering from an illness at least as profound as neurosyphilis: loneliness. She approaches each relationship with her heart on her sleeve, notwithstanding how badly she was used by previous lovers. Her lovers accept only those pieces of her which meet their needs and desires and reject the rest of her; eventually rejecting all of her.
But where do we go from there? Nowhere, since the play rejects linearity, narrative structure, and the Aristotelian Unities as a matter of principal, and the dreadful acoustics of the Blind Whino playing space swallows up much of the play’s remaining coherence.
I cannot emphasize this latter point strongly enough. The Blind Whino turquoise space is a great big rectangle, with the walls painted in a design out of H.P. Lovecraft. I do not know how the space was originally intended, but it is singularly unsuited for the theater. I could understand, perhaps, every second word, and I was sitting in the first row. It was enough to get a sense of the story, but not the story itself. And I can’t really blame the actors. I saw another show in the same venue and had the same problems.
The actors, of course, are allowed only a brief time to rehearse in the venue before the lights go up and the audience comes in. And Caplinger, who also directs this piece, doesn’t help matters by staging overlapping dialogue and having the (rather cool) music (by Natasha Janfaza) override the dialogue on occasion.
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Riot Brrrain
closes July 28, 2018
Details and tickets
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“No setup, no stasis, no ordinary world,” dramaturg Sarah Pultz explains in her program notes. “Just a fractured portrayal of a journey with no real beginning and no real end. This is Teddy’s journey. For the brief period of time that you’ve been watching this play, you’ve gotten a glimpse of their mind. Instead of a linear timeline, we see memories, patterns, and cycles all woven into each other. Because, honestly, who thinks linearly? How many of you go through your day, fully present at each and every moment? I’d argue, very few of you.”
Point well taken, but on the other hand, who has a life that anyone would pay to see on stage? Even the bio-plays fudge with the details (see Hamilton). We go to the theater to see something better, more coherent, and more dramatically satisfying than our lives. This isn’t it.
It almost is. In a scene late in the play, Teddy is with her lover Oscar (Riddle). Oscar admires her unshaven legs (a previous lover had derided them as “gross”), and admits that he had once painted his nails, which made him feel sexy. Teddy responds by painting his lips with her lipstick. She tells us that she is about to have fabulous sex. And you get a sense that this relentlessly modern story has an old-school principle at its heart: when you find someone who loves you as yourself in all your glory and strangeness, and puts aside all the irrelevant and nonsensical sexual categories and expectations, you should ride that love as hard and long as you can.
But it doesn’t end there, of course. It ends with another scene, with Teddy shouting at another ex-lover as he leaves port in a boat; him shouting limited apologies back at her.
Life may be random, but we expect more from theater.
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Riot Brrrain by Caitlin M. Caplinger, directed by Caplinger, assisted by Sarah Pultz, who also served as dramaturg . Featuring Ari Eckley, Reid Clark, Tina Canady, Aron Spellman, Walter C. A. Riddle, and Julieta Gozalo . Lighting design by Ian Claar . Sound design by Alex Lubek . Original music by Natasha Janfaza . Clarke Newton is the stage manager . Reviewed by Tim Treanor.
Its physically painful for some to be misgendered, stirring up dysphoria and self-hatred. Its not something I would wish on anyone. As a member of this industry aiming to change the way theatre has been done for years, I want to engage in meaningful dialogues around these topics. I think it would be great to hold a roundtable or podcast or something with other members of the non-binary community so we can prevent this from happening in the future. Reviews are a valuable tool in this industry. I want them to be as accurate as possible. I’ll email you to see if we can set something up.
Tim makes an excellent point in her review. It’s a subtle portrayal of a non-binary character and she’s totally within her right to question the playwright’s intention of not stating it more clearly. When I go to see any production, I fully expect each character to loudly proclaim their gender identity or sexual orientation. Why on earth would I want to witness how a character’s life has been affected by their journey in discovering themselves through some nuanced portrayal fit for the stage? Hogwash, I say.
In short, aside from the trivial issue of misgendering the main character, I did not see a single thing in this review which would have told me that Tim identified herself as anything but an amateur. If the reviewer intended something different, then in my view her critique failed in that particular. Nor did they prove they were a man for that fact. Tim did not announce this upon entering the venue. Though as she points out, the acoustics are dreadful and I might not have heard her.
If a reviewer presents themselves in a professional way, admitting their mistakes and correcting any errors to respect the process of dramatic critique, I will report it as such. This review, however, did not so present Ms. Treanor, in my view. And I am obliged to report what I read. Let me decide what your identity is Tim.
Do better than invalidating another human’s existence.
Life is rich, diverse and not here for this heteronormative nonsense. We need to demand more from the theatre.
I very much appreciate your thoughtful comment. I must tell you, though, that I did not see the play you are describing. In the production I saw, no character — friend or foe — used a gender-neutral pronoun to describe Teddy (who her friends often called “Theodora”). Nor did I hear Teddy ever state “I am they!”, although that might be due to the bad acoustics of the venue. I apparently misunderstood the ending, but if it wasn’t a boat leaving I can’t imagine what was going on. I did hear Teddy object to the Doctor using the archaic honorific “Miss”, but I assumed that she was objecting to his presumption concerning her marital status, not concerning gender.
In short, aside from the trivial issue of not shaving her legs, I did not see a single thing in this play which would have told me that Teddy identified herself as anything but a woman. If the playwright intended something different, then in my view the play failed in that particular.
If a play presents a character in a gender-neutral way, I will report it as such. This play, however, did not so present Teddy, in my view. And I am obliged to report what I see. You have presented another view to our readers; let them decide on their own.
We have corrected the spelling of Mr. Clark’s name.
I would be interested in hearing your further views on pronouns and non-binary identities, but offline. [email protected].
First, I want to thank you for coming to see the show and writing a review. Your time and consideration as both an audience member and critic are so important to the theatrical process. That being said, I’d like to further implore you to change the pronouns you use for Teddy in this piece. You stated “no one referred to Teddy as ‘they’ or ‘them,'” but Teddy does tell another character (the doctor) not to refer to them as “miss” and in the big confrontation scene towards the end of the play after being misgendered several times Teddy states “I am a they!” Also, any of the characters that have a favorable relationship with teddy do use gender-neutral pronouns for them. I can understand your confusion, in life cis-gendered people are often also referred to using they or them depending on the situation and grammatical context, so the change in pronouns felt subtle and natural. I’m sure you didn’t mean any harm, but using the wrong pronouns whether referencing a real person or a character is disrespectful and in the case of they/them misuse invalidates and erases the whole non-binary community. Additionally, The way I see it, RIOT BRRRAIN isn’t a story about failed romantic and sexual relationships, that’s simply a framework, its ultimately a story about identity and navigating the waters of gender, sexuality, and mental health. Therefore, not editing this piece to reflect Teddy’s true pronouns is not only disrespectful to the non-binary community at large but also to the show itself.
Also, if you do choose to correct this piece “Reid Clark” is spelled without an E and the last scene in the show does not have a boat in. In fact, the scenes that follow that one arguably contain the most context to what the play is actually about.
Again, thank you so much for coming to the show! If you have any further questions about pronouns or non-binary identities I’d be happy to discuss further.
In the production I saw, no one referred to Teddy as “they” or “them”, and the possessive pronoun was not used. On the other hand, characters did refer to Teddy as “her”. My review reflected the text as it was recited, and not the dramaturg’s notes.
Hi there! You may wish to correct the typos in this piece. Teddy’s pronouns are explicitly they/them/theirs, as is made clear in the section of the dramaturg’s note you quoted.