Still Life Is a Memorable Journey

by James E. Trainor III

The problem with a lot of children's theatre is that it tends to talk down to the children. The best shows, Still Life With Iris director Leslie Charipar observes in her director's notes, speak directly to the kids, without pretense or embarrassment, honoring them as the insightful, curious creatures we forgot we were. Steven Dietz's script accomplishes these aims with a story that is universally familiar yet brashly imaginative.

Iris is a denizen of Nocturno, a dreamland where they manufacture everything that we see in the waking world, from leaves to ladybugs to cataclysmic thunderstorms. Everybody toils, but it is a joyful place, and even ordinary things are made by fantastic processes. Into this wonderland steps Mr. Matternot, a mysterious stranger with a secret agenda. He is strangely dressed and foreboding, but Iris is not afraid. She approaches him and asks: "Are you curious or lost?" (it's better to be curious, of course).

The question is emblematic of Iris' character: she is quite at home in the world of wonder, and she's never encountered anything to blunt her innate bravery. Her quest is to test this very identity, which is stolen from her in the form of her "past coat," which holds all her memories. Mr. Matternot takes it from her so that she won't suffer when she is taken away from her home and sent to live as a plaything of the Great Goods. It's a sobering moment, and the simple metaphor cuts very deep: who are we, indeed, if we don't remember where we've been? The Goods want to erase Iris's pain and smooth out her flaws, so that she can be perfect. She's smart enough to know, fortunately, that this leaves her incomplete. "What our memory leaves unfinished," Mr. Matternot remarks later, "our heart completes with ache."

It's a marvelous set-up for a fairy tale, elegant and emotionally resonant. TCR does a great job creating the magical land of Nocturno, with sparse curved platforms and looming wall units that serve multiple purposes. During the opening sequence, elaborate scenic elements are rolled on and off, each larger and more unlikely than the next. The paint and lights use a primarily blue palette to create a moonlit paradise. The costumes are particularly evocative, from unassuming patchwork cloaks for the kids to the imaginative gear worn by the tradespeople (such as "thunder bottlers" and "bolt benders") making the storm. The characterizations of the citizens of Nocturno are at once familiar and fantastic. Especially notable is Len Struttman as the Memory Mender, the crabby but caring tailor who protects everyone's coats.

The island sanctuary of the Great Goods is equally memorable. The goods live in grotesque luxury, owning only the best of everything (and only one of each thing). Bret Gothe's set and Joni Sackett's costumes are quite effective at conjuring this unusual place. Alex Williams and Dyanna Dawn Davidson, decked out in preposterous outfits reminiscent of French monarchs, do a wonderful job of crafting these well-meaning but ultimately nasty oddballs.

The adults in the show are all fun to watch - Chad Canfield is hilarious as Captain Also, for example, and Richie Akers is intimidating (and later quite moving) as Mr. Matternot - but the true joy of this show is watching the kids perform. It's clear that director Leslie Charipar gave them a lot of structure and clear direction, as well as making sure they did their homework. The scenes between Iris, Mozart and Annabel Lee, playful and nuanced, bear her mark. She also gave them lots of freedom: The big ensemble scene when the kids are surrounded in the Tunnel of the Unwanted is quite exciting; the confrontation is organic and dynamic, and the kids are lively and wholly committed. It's an obvious but overlooked fact that no one quite knows how to "play" on stage like a child. These kids have enough guidance to give them confidence (they certainly know the story and the characters, and there wasn't a dropped line the whole night), so they're free to let loose and have fun with it. The effect is elating, if a little scary at times (my own eight-year-old was quite nervous when the kids went into the Tunnel).

Iris herself is a very difficult part, and Anna Mlodzik steps up to the challenge. The early scenes are particularly tough - Dietz crafts some excellent shtick during the first meeting with the Goods, with Iris as the straight man - and one can sense that Mlodzik wants to get the meat of the piece. When she gets there, she makes up for her impatience with the passion and commitment of her performance. During the first act, it's tough to get a bead on her as she darts about the stage, but her timing improves in the second act, and she's quite a powerhouse when she stands her ground and lashes out at her captors. Mlodzik clearly understands Iris's journey on a level emotional as well as a cerebral, and when she becomes the moral center of the play, prosecuting her right to total self-awareness, the effect is heartbreaking.

The only major issue I had with this production was the use of microphones. It's a pet peeve of mine; outside of musicals, I don't believe this technology has a place on the stage. They're very difficult to hide and the sound is artificial and distracting, creating a dangerous distance between the human beings in the audience and those on stage. I suppose one could argue that it's a necessary evil when working with children, but anyone who has school-aged kids at home can tell you that, if they really want to, they can make themselves heard. Call me a Luddite, but I say out with the microphones, in with the voice coaches.

You really should take your kids to see this play. It's a fantastic story that doesn't dumb down its psychological truths. It's crafted by a skilled playwright and brought to life by a passionate company, and the result is a joy for all ages.

Still Life With Iris runs at the Iowa Theatre Building, 102 3rd St SE in Cedar Rapids, May 14 - 23. Tickets are $20-25 for adults; $15 for Youth. You can reserve tickets by calling 319.366.8591 or from TCR's website.

(Photos by TCR.)