Culture Writer
While driving to the Garage Theatre in Long Beach, I had an undeniable sense of déjà vu… hadn’t I been here before? As it turns out, I had… a very long time ago. In the late 1980s, I had attended a play in this very space. At that time it was known as The Found Theatre (which, I’m happy to report, has outgrown its old diggs and now has a larger and more modern space nearby).
The play I viewed that night was a very spartan production of Alice In Wonderland; to say I was disappointed in that production is an understatement. So when I entered the same building 25 years later, I came in holding the baggage of low expectations. The theatre was still modest, seating only about 40 attendees. Patrons, staff and the cast all share the same bathroom (and one must traverse across the edge of the performance area to use it!). There is no proscenium or barrier of any kind between the audience and actors. It is indeed a “black box” theatre. “Wow… Cory (my editor) really picked a winner for me this week!” I thought to myself. I had a feeling that history was going to repeat itself. As it turns out, my prediction was very, very wrong. From the opening scene, I was captivated.
“History doesn’t repeat itself, but it does rhyme,” said that greatest of American philosophers, Mark Twain. His pithy maxim perhaps best sums up one of the underlying themes of Trojan Barbie. The setting is the city of Troy. The time, however, is a mash-up of mythic Troy, modern Troy, and a doll-repair shop in modern England. Our modern-day protagonist, Lotte, decides to take a break from her doll-repair factory by taking a singles tour of Troy. Upon her arrival, time runs amuck, and Lotte finds herself in the company of the principal characters of Euripides’ Trojan Women (a play that could aptly be described as the mother of all tragedies): mother Hecuba and her children Polly X and Cassandra. Their city has been conquered and ransacked by the invading Greek empire; after all material goods have been plundered, all these women and children have left to give is their lives, and the Greeks are still hungry.
Central to our time-fractured universe is Polly X, played by the talented Bri Price. Polly X’s brilliant opening soliloquy introduces us to Troy, the ransacked city which “stinks of gasoline.” She plays the part of the adolescent, sure of her own immortality and oblivious to her precarious existence until the penultimate moment… a punk-rock Polyxena. When she is left guarded by soldiers (awaiting her sacrifice to Achilles), she gets drunk with them, alternately flirting and engaging them with talk of her newfound interest in modern sculpture. “I LOVE BEER!” she exclaims with youthful abandon. Ah, youth… never have I seen it played so well.
Michelle Michau’s Cassandra has a strong, lyrical voice and presence. Her Dionysian undulations are so out of place amongst the death and destruction that surround her. She is strangely delighted by the tragic events surrounding her and takes morbid pleasure in her approaching doom.
Their mother, Hecuba (wonderfully played by Amy Louise Sebelius— you can taste her grief for days afterward), is the character most faithful to Euripides’s tragic archetype. She and her relations, despite their royal lineage, are the people in between the lines of history. They are statistics made real. Their story is played out in the timeless canvas of refugee camps. Director Olivia Trevino dedicates her show to the 40 million refugees in the world today, most of whom are women and children. Set designer Naomi Kasahara uses stained and soiled canvas to envelope the characters. As Trevino says, “Canvas is what refugee camps were made of in the time of mythic Troy… and still to this day.” The set is spot-on. Parallels to modern times are undeniable.
Lotte, played by Rebecca Cherkoss, shepherds us to and from the many layers of time that are folded into Christine Evans’s play. As an unwitting time-traveller, she provides much needed comic relief to a play that could otherwise be too overbearing and, well… tragic! Her stiff-upper-lip, British spirit is both her savior and, at times, a potential downfall. The play is also lightened and enlivened by Helen (of Troy), played— to the nines— by Emma Fyffe. Finally, I must commend Craig Johnson for his portrayal of Talthybius, the hapless herald of the empire who has the unenviable job of having to inform Hecuba of the misfortunes awaiting her family.
As I was lucky enough to see Trojan Barbie on opening night, I had the pleasant surprise of staying for an after-show Q & A session with the playwright, actors and director, all of whom had some very interesting insights. And who could argue with sticking around for an afterparty catered (very appropriately!) by George’s Greek Cafe?!
There are many plays one can see in the Southland over the next couple of months. Most will be in a larger, more modern venue. Many will be filled with dazzling special effects or catchy show tunes. But none will have a better cast or smarter script than Trojan Barbie.
You will not find a better play. Anywhere. Anytime.
Trojan Barbie will play at the Garage Theatre through Saturday, Oct. 13. The venue is located at 251 E. 7th St. Performances are Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights at 8pm. Tickets are $18 general admission, $15 for students, seniors and teachers; a promotion on their website currently offers two-for-one admission on Thursdays. For tickets and more information, call (866) 811-4111 or visit thegaragetheatre.org .
