Darken, Less a Light On @ Ochre House Theater
Photos by Justin Locklear
—Jan Farrington
Playwright Kevin Grammer’s Darken, Less a Light On at Ochre House Theater has a foot in two worlds—the Absurd and the All Too Possible. It’s compelling and meaningful to those of us living through these fraught times—and manages to keep the fun of Ochre House’s free-floating “Suavant Garde” style, but with a welcome heft. It leaves us with something to chew on.
What’s more, there’s an excellent live band to enjoy: music director Gregg Pickett on guitar; Alan Green on percussion; and Aaron Carlos Gonzalez on a bass that sounds electrified at times (but what do I know?). Their original music, a group-devised effort with an improvisational feel, adds to and amplifies the disturbing, upbeat/downbeat feel of what’s happening onstage.
In tandem with Ochre House’s season commitment to a focus on women, this is a story about one woman’s choice (renewed every day, because “this is my cause, who I am”), about the eccentric gang who try to support and/or put her on trial for “what you’re doing”—and our gut responses to all of it. And at moments, though I’m not quite sure how Grammer does it, it’s a bouncing, chaotic Absurdist comedy too.
The setting is a repressive, fear-haunted state that looks a lot like our nightmares about Where We Could Be Heading. Bruce Coleman’s wild costumes (Steam Punk meets Elton John?) don’t tell us whether this is a fantasy world, the too-near future, or something in between—but crazy clothes aside, we recognize the issues, and the wide spectrum of thought on “what I can do with my body.” There are women (or rather, one woman at a time) in a back room, a virus coming from overseas, personal freedoms shrinking—and eventually even public executions, because as one character says dryly, “We’re doing that now.”
The woman at the center of Darken is Sharona (Shahada Crane), hollow-eyed and shaken, repeatedly taking off one surgical glove after coming out after a “procedure.” The script hints at her past as an activist in a free-er version of this world. But now she’s in hiding, though with a constant stream of drop-in friends and others (enemies or friends?) keeping her company.
With Sharona as the play’s dark and serious center, the others are free to play. Lolo (Loren Massey) and Spikes (Brad Hennigan) go in and out, she with a selfie stick always in hand, he a goofy smiling slave to her every wish. Lolo goes along to get along. “I follow all of their rules,” she tells Sharona. “Do you hate me for that?” But Lolo knows: “It’s going to get worse, isn’t it?” And Spikes has a revelation: “I’m going to get a gun. A big one.” Hennigan, particularly hilarious, skews a bit scary by the end, as Spikes’ guns get bigger with every scene.
Also at Sharona’s door are strangers Dintee (Brian Witkowicz) and Dintee 2 (Dante Martinez), white-clad admirers of her work offering to bring her “supplies.” Grammer’s use of repeated language goes into overdrive with this pair: “Are we keeping you from anything?”…”We’re big fans of what you are doing.” The same comedy-team duo (great synchronized slapstick moments) return as their own black-clad alter egos, who want to come down hard on Sharona—but haven’t brought the right government form. Enter Sharona’s mother Eva (Carla Parker), a fierce but rather erratic presence (though glam). Does she want to support her daughter, or turn her in? Meanwhile, Spikes is more in love with his guns every day (“I got so many bullets”), and no longer happy to be Lolo’s minion.
The pale green skyscrapers and cinder-block walls of the set (a clever, quick-flip concept combining Ochre AD Matthew Posey’s design and Izk Davies’ scenic art) lend an unsettling feel, and flashlights under the actors’ chins illuminate faces in a dramatic freeze-frame tableau. I’m not entirely certain things are going to get better in the world of Darken, Less a Light On: Sharona’s haunted, determined expression is the play’s through-line. But the music is great, the acting lively, and the play’s focus on freedoms gives us plenty to ponder on the way home.
WHEN: Through May 20
WHERE: 825 Exposition Avenue, Dallas
