Heidi Nye
Culture Writer

Jack Pullman and Diana Schoenfield in the Little Tree Theatre’s production of The Moon, the Sun and the Empty Space
The Moon, the Sun and the Empty Space, developed and directed by Alexander Marc Makardish, Jeremy Charles Hohn and David Anthony Anis, delighted all with its shadow puppetry, backlit silhouettes, musical interludes and magic tricks. Especially noteworthy were guitarist Amanda Carson’s original pieces “Calling Time” and “Hope It Runs,” folk ballads with clear, original imagery, and Jack Pullman’s banjo pieces, one of which, “No Tycoon,” was an original.
For those who long for a plot synopsis, this is all that can be said: An older gentleman (Forrest Robinson) dressed in shabby suit and tie sits on a bench. Is he waiting for a bus? Is he coming home from a trip? Is he embarking on one? Is he homeless and has everything he owns in his suitcase? This remains unclear. He has an empty jar, however, which may symbolize his soul, his loneliness or nothing at all. A playful spot of light appears to intrigue and amuse him. Is this his inner light that has fled and must be returned to the jar? Under a hat, he finds a transistor radio and is befuddled by its propensity to play music. Does this mean he comes from a time before that technology was invented?
Eventually, Robinson exits, and the younger Jack Pullman takes over. Dressed like Huck Finn (dilapidated straw hat, cut-off jeans, suspenders), he boards a raft, not with Jim but with dancer Diana Schoenfield in leotard and loose-fitting ’70s shirt. The time period is ever-ambiguous, since there are elements of pre-Civil War days, the Depression, the ’60s, and perhaps the present. Three black-attired, bowler-hatted men and one woman connote A Clockwork Orange without the violence.
Many disparate scenes later, Robinson stumbles back on stage. Is he returning from another time, a wormhole or simply a reverie of his youth? Though this would have been a fitting ending, the play goes on for another 20 minutes.
Magician Naathan Phan, attired in mysterious-man-from-the-East black silk with embroidered red dragons, masterfully levitates a table. Phan also has the bulk of the 30 or so spoken words throughout the play, asking Pullman, “What do you want out of life?” This theme had not been apparent prior to this, so “Huck” and the audience were equally stumped.
The playbill for The Moon, the Sun and the Empty Space would have benefited from a few words from the directors. Prior to the show, a couple mentioned that they were attending to see their nephew perform. When they had asked him what the play was about, he couldn’t say. It’s one thing if the audience doesn’t understand a play, but the actors must.
The Long Beach Playhouse’s Collaborative Season continues with Catharsis Production’s The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged), March 13-22. Performances are Fridays and Saturdays at 8pm and Sundays at 2pm. Tickets are $12. Tickets may be purchased online at lbplayhouse.org or by calling (562) 494-1014. The Playhouse is located at 5021 E. Anaheim St.
Theatre review Little Tree Theatre's The Moon, the Sun and the Empty Space
