Author: David Gorsline

Tornado Tastes Like Aluminum Sting is a little much to take in at first viewing, which is part of the point. The narrative skitters fractally back and forth along a time line in the life of Chantal (a/k/a CB, for Chantal Akerman and Luis Buñuel) from ages 11 to 19, living on a small farm in the Great Plains with a loving, imperfect mother and father. Chantal (laser-focused Jean Christian Barry) checks several of the boxes in the catalog of neurodiversity, among them autism spectrum, ADHD, and synesthesia; CB is also nonbinary, or perhaps “abinary,” preferring to eschew pronouns altogether.

Chantal is learning to become a film-maker like CB’s namesakes. Most of the second half of the play consists of capturing/retelling/reassembling life-changing events when Chantal was much younger. There’s more than a suggestion that Chantal believes that coming out to CB’s parents as nonbinary caused the tornado that destroyed the family home.

Harmon dot aut wisely leans into CB’s synesthesia, as well as CB’s obsession with movies. Both of these aspects of neurodiversity are easy for us to make a connection with Chantal. There’s nothing threatening about synesthesia, unlike the culture dustups about pronouns¹ and public washrooms. Likewise, who doesn’t go a little too deep into movies?

Jasminn Johnson holds her own as Mom, a kindergarten teacher with a flair for little verses that end with an Edward Gorey twist. And Roderick Hill as Dad shows some chops remembering a horrible killing when he was deployed to Kabul, as well as a tasty comic run of movie star impersonations (as directed by Chantal).

A scattering of films referred to in the text:

• The Best Years of Our Lives, William Wyler, 1946: All those war stories.
• The Wizard of Oz, Victor Fleming-King Vidor, 1939: How did that twister effect work?
• News from Home, Akerman, 1976: I need to take a look at this one.
• El ángel exterminador [The Exterminating Angel], Buñuel, 1962: It’s a puzzle to work out why this film is so important to Chantal. Certainly it has made an impression on subsequent generations.

Not alluded to, but always under the surface when we talk about Buñuel: Un chien Andalou, 1929. Somehow those ants scurrying about reflect how/what Chantal is processing.

An ground-breaking piece, masterfully done. Bravo to CATF for bringing it to the festival. And cheers to the running crew scooting in to reset the wreckage of CB’s house.

• Contemporary American Theater Festival at Shepherd University, Shepherdstown, W. Va.
• Tornado Tastes Like Aluminum Sting, by Harmon dot aut, directed by Oliver Butler

¹Between you and me, I look forward to a time, decades or centuries away, when English’s current gender marking seems as quaint as adjectives that decline and the ablative case.

The Happiest Man on Earth is the Holocaust survivor’s story of Eddie Jaku, told in monologue form by the avuncular Kenneth Tigar. What’s remarkable about Jaku’s memoirs is his breadth of experiences—suffering in at least two concentration camps, a life in occupied Belgium, a journey on foot across France—as well as his lack of animosity toward nearly all his persecutors. And his wry sense of humor.

Enough to Let the Light In sits at the intersection of several genres, and to go into too much detail would spoil some of the fun. Let’s just say that it’s as if Mary Chase’s Mr. Wilson were to meet a lesbian Heather Armstrong, as told by Henry James.

There’s one little detail that I must call out, be it from the script or a flourish added by director Kimberly Senior, that I’ll call the “coaster dance.” Type AAA Marc (Deanna Myers) is visiting the home of her girlfriend Cynthia (Caroline Neff) for the first time. Cynthia’s place is a tastefully appointed brownstone/Victorian house, one of those “oh, I could just live here” sets (designed by Mara Ishihara Zinky) that work so well in the Marinoff. Cynthia used to be a painter, and the one element in the room that seems out of place is a large self-portrait, largely representational but with what could be migraine halos surrounding Cynthia’s frizz of curly hair. There is also a smear that reminds us of Gerhard Richter. Hmm, anyway.

Cynthia brings drinks; Marc sets hers on a coaster and Cynthia sets hers directly on a beautiful wooden table, right next to a coaster; Marc quietly moves Cynthia’s drink on to a coaster. Remember, this is Cynthia’s house. They dance at least three rounds of this game.

• Contemporary American Theater Festival at Shepherd University, Shepherdstown, W. Va.
• The Happiest Man on Earth, by Mark St. Germain, directed by Ron Lagomarsino
• Enough to Let the Light In, by Paloma Nozicka, directed by Kimberly Senior

Fun fact: Row J in the Frank Center has the electrical and audio-video outlets for the tech desk.

CATF launches a slightly simplified season for 2024, presenting only four plays (one in two parts), with no productions rotating out at the festival’s four venues. Sharp-eyed program readers will also note only one world premiere.

In the flagship Frank Center venue is mounted What Will Happen to All That Beauty?, by Donja R. Love. It’s a tender, multi-generational study of the effect of HIV/AIDS, with specific attention to Black communities in metropolitan New York (at the dawn of the crisis) and small towns (close to the present day).

As we enter the theater for Part 1, we see Luciana Stecconi’s handsome multi-playing area set with up to seven levels, faced on wood slats in shades of brown, with backing screens of the same slats. This same set, with some of the screens rearranged, serves for Part 2, albeit with more realistic dressing pieces—bedding is on the platform bed, the cooker and sideboard are visible, and there’s a practical chandelier. There’s no marked change in style in the text or otherwise in the storytelling, so we’re left to puzzle why.

Lengthy costume changes in Part 2 take some of the momentum out of the piece, especially after the penultimate scene, which felt like the play’s end to most of us.

Which takes us to the final step of the journey of Manny (the charismatic Jude Tibeau), the protagonist of Part 2, and his relationship with his grandfather, Rev. Emmanuel Bridges, Sr. (powerful Jerome Preston Bates). Bridges, Sr. is a traditional Mississippi preacher, leading off Part 1 with a sermon that sets two of the play’s themes, beauty and sacrifice; he claims a somewhat confusing dichotomy between the two. His descendants, however, profess no particular faith; a supporting character in Part 1 quietly espouses Islam, but is not taken up on it. At one meeting with his grandfather, Manny is openly resistant to Christianity. So we’re left with Manny’s ambiguous final monologue. Preaching beauty, has he (improbably) taken up his grandfather’s mantle in the church? Has he taken up a street corner pulpit?

• Contemporary American Theater Festival at Shepherd University, Shepherdstown, W. Va.
• What Will Happen to All That Beauty?, by Dorja R. Love, directed by Malika Oyetimein