The announcement of any performance of British playwright Caryl Churchill is cause for excitement. She has long been a powerful and intriguing voice for gender equality, environmental protection, and sense of self while providing memorable entertainment. On that score, the premiere program of four of her short works — Glass. Kill. What If If Only. Imp. — at The Public Theater is a disappointment. Director James Macdonald and his artistic team have done a masterful job of making the production visually interesting. But while moments gleam, it never comes together as a cohesive event.
Glass explores the melancholy lives of four decorative items (Japhet Balaban, Adelind Horan, Sathya Sridharan, and Ayana Workman) beyond the confines of their shared mantelpiece. Designer Miriam Buether’s first impactful set is a solid LED jutting out from the darkness and demanding attention. Though a soulful Workman gives depth to the glass figurine who is the catalyst for the tragic events that unfold, Glass plays out more like an acting class exercise than a full fledged work of theater.
Deirdre O’Connell, who won a Tony Award for her solo work in Dana H, pulls off the chillingly violent patter of Kill. Sitting comfortably on a puffy cloud, a sparkling god of Olympus recounts many evil deeds performed by men — from the prideful Tantalus to the warrior Agamemnon — in the Pantheon’s name. The repetition would sound like the narration of a five-year-old were the content less bloody. A knowledge of Greek mythology is essential for following the rapid-fire references, though the essence is clear from O’Connell’s tone and manner.
The first half is closed out with What If If Only, a meditation on love, loss, and the risks of second chances. For this solemn reflection, Buether provides a still life setting in stark black, white and red. The sound design of Bray Poor also plays a key role by reinforcing the oppressive atmosphere. The philosophical theater game is anchored by John Ellison Conlee, who makes the absurd sound completely natural.
Breaks between these plays are filled by two talented acrobats. The first is Junru Wang, who performs a balletic work while her hands balance on small stools at the foot of the stage. For the second, we are treated to what I christened a “juggler-tease” performed with flirtatious glee by Maddox Morfit-Tighe. Unfortunately some of his choreography was out of the sight lines of the back half of the audience. Whether these two talented people provide unity, distraction, or a fleeting moment of joy is up to the beholder.
The second half of the program is fully occupied by the more plot-heavy Imp. Conlee and O’Connell portray Jimmy and Dot, friends close enough to consider themselves brother and sister of different parents. The affable Jimmy lifts his mood with running and chess. Slumped in a nearby chair, Dot is ill-temperated and unwell. She also believes herself to be in possession of a magical imp imprisoned in a wine bottle.
The rhythm of their lives is altered by the arrival of two newcomers. First their niece, Niamh, a recent transplant from Ireland stops by. (Horan is wonderful at delivering Neve’s wildest fears in recognizable Churchill style.) Then the couch surfing Rob enters their lives (Balaban again). The younger pair is tossed about, though who’s to say whether their bumpy ride is caused by a supernatural being, the differing attitudes of their hosts, or just life.
It is fitting that the stage on which Glass. Kill. What If If Only. Imp. are performed is framed in chase lights with definite personality (Isabella Byrd lighting design). With its bitesized ideas and high level of engagement, it’s Caryl Churchill for the TikTok generation. Churchill’s signature poetic language and extraordinary themes are intact, but there is too little structure. The Playbill notes encourage us to look beyond conventional narratives, but humans are storytellers with a need for an organizing rope to hold. The feeling left behind by experiencing these four shorts is more akin to a stroll through a depressive art gallery than witnessing an emotionally fulfilling theatrical work. Performances continue through May 11th at the Martinson Theater at The Public, 425 Lafayette Street. Running time is 2:15 with one intermission. Tickets are available at https://publictheater.org/productions/season/2425/caryl-churchill-plays/ and start at $89.
The Unforgettable Line 
The Price of Thomas Scott
Long before there was Reverend Moore in Footloose, there was dance adversary and forceful chapel congregant Thomas Scott. Scott has been offered a small fortune for his declining neighborhood textile business. The problem? The new owners would turn the desirable corner location into a dance hall: a devil’s playground as far as Scott is concerned. A righteous Protestant Nonconformist, he must now weigh his family’s future against his steadfast convictions.
Despite being written in 1913 by rising star Elizabeth Baker, The Price of Thomas Scott is brimming with modern dilemmas. Class still dictates potential opportunity for education and career. Our highly divided social climate is filled with the voices of strong convictions that have soured into prejudice. Many become even more entrenched in the familiar and pass judgement on those who are open to differing opinion. Yet as time moves forward, the seemingly outrageous and unusual can find more acceptance.
Scott’s family in question includes his far-sighted and talented daughter Annie (a radiant Emma Geer), whose creativity is stifled by her tasteless clientele. Her brilliant brother Leonard (Nick LaMedica who does his best to come across as a teenager) has the potential to become upwardly mobile. Their mother Ellen (an underutilized Tracy Sallows) longs to retire with her husband to Tunbridge Wells where they first met. While Scott himself (a crackling Donald Corren) has built his life around his chapel and now seems driven to protect everyone’s prospects for entrance to heaven. Temptation is provided in the form of Wicksteed (a polished and eloquent Mitch Greenberg) a former friend now employed by the successful Courney Company. The story is made richer by the Scott’s friends and neighbors played by Andrew Fallaize, Josh Goulding, Jay Russell, Mark Kenneth Smaltz, Ayana Workman and Arielle Yoder.
Tracy Sallows, Donald Corren and Emma Geer. Photo by Todd Cerveris.
Director Jonathan Bank is constrained in his approach, relying heavily on Tracy Bersley’s choreography to pick up the momentum. All the action takes place in the back parlor of the Scott’s shop, represented by the perfectly rundown set created by Vicki R. Davis. The charming mostly muted costumes by Hunter Kaczorowski tell the story of period and class in pre-WWI England. The hats on display illustrate the gap between Annie’s instinct for style and her clients’ misguided requests. Shifts in the lighting by Christian Deangelis and music and sound by Jane Shaw help set mood and pace.
All are in service to the clever and often humorous words of Ms. Baker. Growing up in a household similar to that of the Scotts, she took in her first play at the age of 30. In short order she had transformed from an obscure stenographer to recognized playwright. At first you may need to navigate the various accents and a few older expressions, but then the flow is established and the characters come into focus. However, the ending will feel extremely abrupt to a modern audience. (Those around me failed to clap for a full 30 seconds, though they appeared stunned more than unhappy with the performance.) The production team seems to have recognized Baker’s departure from what has become an acceptable character arc and tacked on a post-curtain call “coda” to better manage expectation. Your reading of the Artistic Director’s statement and dramaturgical notes will help you better appreciate the work.
The Price of Thomas Scott poses some deep questions through pleasant voices. It is Mint Theater’s latest project in support of giving new life to neglected women playwrights. Runtime is 90 minutes with no intermission. It is playing through March 23 at the Beckett Theatre in Theatre Row. Full priced tickets are $65, though there are several discount options including $32 day-of Rush. For more information and to purchase seats visit http://minttheater.org/current-production/