Dogs of Rwanda is like that really sweet guy you wanna like, but you just can’t get beyond his shortcomings. There are several unfortunate distractions that prevent it from being as powerful as it should be. Given that the Rwandan genocide took place in 1994 and the audience spans a large age range, a short background beyond the artistic director’s statement would have helped. By necessity, the tale we hear is a deeply personal one and moments are certainly shocking, but they are not given sufficient context or a sharp enough lens through which to see. There are also some artistic choices that have hindered the impact of the piece.
The script by Sean Christopher Lewis is delivered as a monologue told solely from the point of view of David Zosia, who at 16 volunteered for a church run spring break program in order to spend time with his crush, Mary. At their Ugandan camp, they are assigned laundry duty working just downstream from Rwanda. When the fight between the Tutsis and the Hutus breaks out, bodies begin floating by the horrified youth. The pair is drawn deeper into the conflict when they attempt to help a local boy named Gods Blessing. Over the course of 90 minutes, David vividly describes what happened at the time and also 20 years later when he receives a note from Gods Blessing that takes him back to Africa. The audience is present to bear witness to his account: an integral role in any deeply meaningful ritual.
David is portrayed by Dan Hodge, an actor and director with an impressive resume. Unlike most solo performances this isn’t Hodge’s story and that is the first stumbling block to its success. Hodge never fully inhabits the role: he is acting not being. The only other person on stage is musician Abou Lion Diarra who accompanies David’s tale with original music performed on a variety of percussion instruments. This creative embellishment was added by the Urban Stages team, but the execution doesn’t quite work. Hodge is inconsistent about including Diarra in the action, sometimes exchanges glances and sometimes ignoring him. Furthermore, the talented Diarra is often so swept away by the joy he finds in playing that it is easy to catch him smiling incongruently to the horrors being described.
Actor Dan Hodge with instrumentalist Abou Lion Diarra. Photo by Ben Hider.
There is also the critical issue that David is essentially a selfish SOB. Everyone else we hear about — Mary, Gods Blessing, and his current girlfriend — have been treated with contempt by our narrator and guide. He is not without redeeming qualities, having literally bled to share at least some of his story with the public in a book called Letters From The Red Hill. While David is certainly contrite by the end, that is where we leave him, never witnessing any actual change in his behavior. This makes his confession a rather hallow one. How can we forgive David as we are meant to if we never see him embody the lessons he claims to have learned and put them into action?
Urban Stages Founder, Frances Hill, and Director of Musical theatre, Peter Napolitano are responsible for the meandering direction. The creative team is the same as the one that brought Zhu Yi’s A Deal to life. Their vision is much murkier this time around. The set by Frank J. Oliva is made to look like a village clearing with a faux earthen floor and thatch peering through a side opening. It lends an interesting flavor to the atmosphere, though the setting is only appropriate some of the time. John Salutz’s lighting casts long shadows which may be intended to add mood but come across as an amateurish mistake. The brilliant Ryan Belock has once again designed the projections, but the screen is at an angle over Hodge’s head. This is effective for planes, trees, and clouds, and a head scratcher for ocean waves.
While not completely successful as a drama, Dogs of Rwanda can serve as a reminder of the dehumanizing effects of war, the atrocities committed based on tribalism, and the many treasured places around the globe devalued by Americans. It is a worthy end to a season in which Urban Stages has been shining a light on works with an international point of view. It runs through Saturday, March 31, 2018. Tickets for are $35 ($25 during previews; $50 on opening and $15 student rush) and may be purchased via OvationTix at www.urbanstages.org or by phone at 1.866.811.4111.
![Noel Joseph Allain, Julia Sirna-Frest, and Leah Karpel in [PORTO] -- Photography by Maria Baranova](https://unforgettableline.files.wordpress.com/2018/03/noel-joseph-allain-julia-sirna-frest-and-leah-karpel-in-porto-photography-by-maria-baranova.jpg?w=525&h=350)
I attended the performance of your play, Some Old Black Man, at 59E59 Theaters on Saturday, February 10. Co-star Roger Robinson was out sick, replaced by Phil McGlaston. I understand that Mr. Robinson has been with the production since the beginning and that it is your request that the show not be reviewed without him. Certainly I was disappointed not to see his turn as Donald, but it was a marvelous afternoon nonetheless. I wanted to take this opportunity to applaud your wonderful work in full view of my readers.
The lyrics rely heavily on the use of the F-word. There are also long asides recited over a single note in almost every song. These devices seem lazy given Goodman’s clear and strong opinions. Most non-musical sections bring a smile and several are big-laugh worthy. At a few intervals, Goodman asks the audience to participate, though mine was decidedly shy. Gags include the aforementioned wise vaginas and a team of uncooperative dancing boobs. Of the routines that stem from higher chakras, the right wing cheerleaders (pictured here) are among the most fully drawn. The modern twist on Vanilla Ice’s theme is genius. Another skit in which characters speak in Siri is just right. The only bit that fell completely flat featured two literal empty nesters who contemplate getting hooked on painkillers. This is one topic for which no amount of distance is enough.
This Flat Earth
“Are you there,” implores 13 year old Julie at both ends of This Flat Earth to anyone who’s listening. Nine students were recently killed in a school shooting, disrupting her feelings of peace, safety, and normalcy. This topic should be the springboard for compelling discussion. Indeed there are some threads about socioeconomic conditions and adolescent turning points that click. But for the most part, this is a ninety minute missed opportunity that ultimately promises that trauma will be all but lost beneath the unrelenting waves of everyday life.
Ella Kennedy Davis (Julie) and Lynda Gravátt (Cloris), Photo by Joan Marcus.
The piece is set in the recent past, and yet somehow Julie has no idea that hers is not the first school to have gone through such an experience. She believes that her persistent jealousy of a talented and popular girl who died might have caused the tragedy. In her program notes, playwright Lindsey Ferrentino tells how she experienced a similar sense of misplaced power when the incidents of 9/11 occurred the day after she had written a diary entry about the joys of peacetime. The transference of those feelings to sadly more common circumstance are diminishing to her main character. The excuse provided for Julie’s ignorance is that her father is too poor to have purchased a laptop. But even her best friend/would-be-boyfriend Zander seems to think the girl just hasn’t been paying attention.
The casting of Ella Kennedy Davis as Julie doesn’t do much to shore up the character as an interesting representative of her generation. While speaking too quickly at a very high pitch and slurring key words is all too realistic, it also left many of the audience members trying to keep up as they attempted to fill in the missed dialogue. Faring much better is the gifted Ian Saint-Germain, who captures the natural flow of Zander’s assuredness and awkwardness. Lucas Papaelias has trouble navigating the clumsy role of Julie’s father, Dan, but it is hard to tell how much of the difficulty is in the lines and how much in his interpretation. While no parent can protect a child from all dangers, widower Dan comes across as particularly ill-equipped and Papaelias often flails around in his skin. In the role of Lisa, a mother who lost a child in the tragedy, Cassie Beck is also constrained by her character’s limited responses. The only adult providing any constructive contribution is Lynda Gravátt’s upstairs neighbor Cloris. Naturally she can’t answer the impossible, but she delivers sincere and often amusing descriptions of effective coping mechanisms.
The talented director Rebecca Taichman does her best to underscore the truer emotions in the script by matching it with genuinely motivated physicality. Dane Laffrey’s two story set works wonderfully, though it could use a few more tonal touches. Costume designer Paloma Young has put together a fitting wardrobe, particularly with a bag of clothes that plays a critical role. Adding to the mood as well as forwarding the story is cellist Christine H. Kim under the musical direction of Christian Frederickson.
This Flat Earth is one of several recent productions that poses probing questions about the world we are leaving to the new generation. The Artistic Director claims it was never conceived as a production about gun violence, but opening just a month after events at Parkland it’s impossible to view it separate from that issue. Even when evaluated as an artistic expression, the play is wan when compared to similar offerings. While there are moments when the authentic psyches of the teens shine through, there are too many uninspiring stretches. Performances of this world premiere continue through April 29 at Playwrights Horizons. For tickets and information visit https://www.playwrightshorizons.org/shows/plays/flat-earth/.