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Review: Shotgun Players' provocative 'God's Plot' captures America's rebellious spirit Karen D'Souza The spirit of revolution first sweeps across the colonies in "God's Plot." Playwright/director Mark Jackson has made his name as a first-class theatrical provocateur. Gutsy showmanship, brainy literary instincts and laser-sharp satire mark his canon, from "The Death of Meyerhold" and "American Suicide" to "Faust" and "Metamorphosis." "God's Plot," in its world premiere at Shotgun Players, is no exception. Jackson mixes history, art and romance in this heady final installment in Shotgun's bold 20th-anniversary season. While the play and the production both need polish, there's no denying the fire burning at the core of this 17th-century adventure. "God's Plot" unearths a little-known chapter in the annals of American history: the first play known to have been produced in the colonies. The work in question, William Darby's 1665 "Ye Bare (Bear) and Ye Cubbe," was a tart satire that raged against King Charles II's oppressive trade policies against the colonists. To Jackson, the anger of Virginia farmers outwitted by London businessmen echoes in the protests in America today, the belief that the many have been impoverished to enrich the few. The early roots of the Occupy Wall Street movement can be seen in the "sedition" practiced by Darby (Carl Holvick Thomas). An actor persecuted for his trade under Oliver Cromwell's tyrannical reign, he flees to the colonies to escape imprisonment. In the Pungoteague settlement on the eastern shores of Virginia, he finds that fascism has many faces. Citizens must hew to strict moral and religious codes, lest they land in the stocks. Speaking one's mind is a crime, and being a Quaker or any other religion deemed unsuitable is grounds for hanging. Anyone tainted with the "devil's work" may well be burned alive. Midwifery? Not a great career option, especially anywhere near Salem. The Puritan thought police are not amused when Darby pens a lampoon in which a mother bear refuses to share honey with its cub. Attacking the greed of the mother country is not allowed. Flirting with the judge's impudent daughter Tryal Pore (the luminous Juliana Lustenader) doesn't help. But while Darby sometimes loses his nerve in his fight for independence, Tryal seems fearless in the pursuit of truth. She gives voice to the repressed longings of the community in a series of original songs (composed by Daveen DiGiacomo), some of which soar, while others sputter. Lustenader sings her heart out, but Jackson has yet to smooth out the balance between the dialogue and the musical numbers. While the love story between Darby and Tryal sometimes seems overdone and the epilogue feels anticlimactic, Jackson's portrait of life in the colony is gripping. Quakers hide in the shadows. A tobacco farmer (Anthony Nemirovsky) overreaches his grasp with a bad loan, goes bankrupt and loses his real estate to a pragmatic carpenter (Joe Salazar). The stalwart sheriff (Dave Maier) maintains order by turning a blind eye to anything that would disturb the peace, from drinking on the Sabbath to secret Quaker meetings. The sheriff's plans for keeping the peace go awry when "Ye Bare (or Bear) and Ye Cubbe" hits the boards and draws fire for blasphemy. Cowering before the crown, the town fathers put the actors on trial for treason and find themselves presiding over the battle between art and politics. This provocative piece grapples with a tangle of issues, from the love of spectacle that dominates both theater and religion and narcissism of the artist to the price paid for heroism in a cowardly time. But perhaps the most potent theme is the long and storied history of protest in this country. Jackson suggests that Darby and his little band of troopers sowed seeds of rebellion that led to the American Revolution and the birth of these United States. The palpable sense of patriotism generated in the play's closing moments leaves a lump in your throat. |
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