By James E. Trainor III
If you're a native Iowan, you probably recognize the ubiquitous Midwestern road trip. Endless driving through flat land. Questionable destinations such as Hannibal, Missouri. Fighting with your sister. But if that doesn't sound familiar, never fear; Leaving Iowa also deals with more universal themes, such as family, grief, and learning to forgive. It approaches these topics in a warm, homespun way that weaves plenty of laughter inbetween the thoughtful moments.
Don, who now lives in Boston, is coming home to Winterset for a family gathering, but also to fulfill a simple request: his father wanted his ashes scattered two hours away, in Mt. Union, at the home of Don's grandparents. He's taken time out of his busy life to do this because he has to deal with his father's ghost. Unfortunately, grandma's house is now a grocery store, and what was supposed to be a simple gesture to make peace takes a wrong turn into a zany adventure.
The reasons he's driven so passionately to deal with his father are outlined in a series of flashbacks, interspersed with Don's soul-searching monologues. The flashbacks show us a caring but tightly-wound father determined to give his family a taste of adventure on a limited schedule and a strict budget. But in Iowa, adventures, Don points out, "are like steep hills: hard to come by."
The family vacations were tense, stressful affairs, and Don and his sister never really appreciated the effort. Don's journey, however, is to figure out what his father taught him, and how to do his memory justice. The script, by Tim Clue and Spike Manton, tells this story in all its fullness, becoming raucously humorous at times, quietly insightful at others. The use of language is particularly good; the cadence of most of the characters is easy and subtle, terse with plenty of repetition, and it gives the actors a lot to work with when a simple "that's all right" or "you betcha" can say so much.
Russ Keast, who plays the lead, is a good storyteller, and his simple, honest Don is quite relatable. He has a great physical energy, and is a lot of fun in the comic scenes. When he transitions from a boy to an adult and back, his detailed acting work shows. He wears the same costume, but he somehow gets a little bit bigger, a little more confident, and his scenework gets less broad and carefree. You can see the consistency between the two time periods, but you can also see the change. It's very effective.
Bill Croghan is great as the well-meaning but often infuriating Dad. He runs every scene with restless energy, very rarely backing down from a conflict but speaking volumes about the inner life of this character when he does. The comedy comes from the unstoppable drive of the father, but the meaningful center of the piece comes from the purity of his philosophy: he wants his family to appreciate the wonder of life, the way a simple stretch of road can give us such insight into ourselves and our history.
Croghan deals with the transitions extremely well. The father is in the scenes with the adult Don, listening quietly and waiting to see what he will do. Here his agitated, on-the-go manner is completely lifted and he is a quiet, calm -- but still curious -- ghost. This great acting really sells the piece.
Carole Martin and Mary Jane Myers play the roles of Sister and Mom, respectively, and they work well with Keast and Croghan to create some really fun scenes of chaotic family squabbles. Duane Larson and Sarah Fried play a wide variety of characters that are met on the road, and their versatility, tireless energy, and onstage chemistry is incredible. The sheer amount of character work done here is impressive, but none of it is showboating; it's all done to serve a quirky and engaging story.
Wayne Haug's direction shapes the play quite well. The scenework, for all its variety, is consistently nuanced. The laughs hit home and the deeper scenes tug at the heartstrings. Haug says he saw the show at the Royal George Theatre at Chicago, and just had to bring it home to Gwen's; his passion for the work is evident. Haug also designed the set, a simple and effective arrangement that creates a "car" out of four chairs, a steering wheel, and a backdrop of picturesque rural Iowa, leaving plenty of playing space.
Barb Shepley's costume design deserves special mention here. There are a lot of costume changes in this show, but they all go smoothly, and everyone, from the part-Cherokee farmer to the diehard Hawkeyes fan, looks the part.
Leaving Iowa is a very fun show that is sure to make you appreciate the things you miss on the side of the road. So hop in the car and head on down to Gwen's. Who knows? You just might find an adventure.
Leaving Iowa is presented as a dinner theatre at Gwen's Restaurant in Lisbon, on March 8th, 9th and 10th. Dinner is served at 6:30; the show begins at 7:30. Tickets are $25.
No comments:
Post a Comment