If writer Lauren Yee has a "thing" that describes her plays, it's dark comedies set against authoritarian backgrounds. Her excellent Cambodian Rock Band featured a man literally playing for time against a bouncy, humorous leader in the Cambodian genocide. The Great Leap Forward sent a US basketball team to China and ended at Tiananmen Square. And now she take on Russia after the fall of the Berlin Wall and the dissolution of Soviet Russia and the triumph of capitalism. And its a wild ride.
So, we're in St Petersburg in the early 90s, and we have three people for whom the great move to capitalism has not worked out so well. Billy Finn is Evgeny, a unemployed milquetoast who lurks in the shadow of his father, a former KGB bigwig. He's hired by an old school chum Dmitri (Jesse Calixto), who has used the new freedom to open a small, failing business, and has pivoted it into a front for a freelance domestic espionage operation. Their target is Katya M (Andi Alhadeff),a former rebel rocker who was big in the secret listening parties during the bad old times, and left for America. She couldn't compete with Whitney Houston, and no one wanted songs about the gulags when the gulags were supposedly closed down, so she came back. They are all lost in this brave new world of MacDonald's filet-o-fish sandwiches, adidas swooshes, and Folger's instant coffee. Freedom of choice means little to them when they themselves are not chosen.
And punctuating all of this is the always-appealing Rep semi-regular Julia Briskman, who wanders onto the stage between scenes as the babushka-wearing old woman. She's the embodiment of old Russia herself, though she never comes out an admits it. She plies the audience with donuts to get them on her side, complains about how everything is different now, and describes the former leaders of the USSR as old lovers who come to woo her yet always disappoint her.
And the set-up feels comfortable and little frothy, and you think you know what's coming, and you're right and you're also wrong. Yee throws in some delightful curveballs in the plot, and all the characters are both smart and incredibly stupid at the same time. Billy Finn is timid, trying to strike out on his own, and get his father's love and respect while dealing with his own inner cowardice. Jesse Calixto evokes Jackie Gleason with his wide-eyed reactions and own cluelessness of his weakness. Both men were originally planning on moving up to the big leagues of the old regime in the ranks of the KBG, and are now lost in the wake of the Soviet Collapse. Andi Alhadeff carves her own path as Katya, with her own arc and goals which the others both miss.
Now, in Mississippi Moon I loved the music, but recognized its existence as a cover to the motions of a rotating set design. Julia Briskman's Russian Mom does the same thing here with monologues and complaints, but the rotating set design here actually works, going from inside the shop to outside to a bus interior to outside Evgeny's father's door neatly. In this case there is precious little downtime and without breaking the flow. The fact that Briskman is wonderful just adds to it.
And, like Yee's other works, there is a lot of bright spots and human nature against the authoritarian background, and while there are the horrors of the past and perils of an uncertain future, the performance sparkle against it. Some of it feels like a SNL skit from the same period, making fun of Russian interpretations of American styles, yet it peels away easily to reveal the vulnerabilities of three people who have been conditioned to hide their true selves by their government. And it is a bit uncomfortable at a time when our own authoritarians are seeking to remake the world in their image, so some of the laughter feels like whistling past the graveyard.
I'm going to mark this one as a hit, and am delighted that the Rep is pushing its own World Premieres. More of this, please.
More later,