Tag Archives: Lizan Mitchell

The Half-God of Rainfall

At a time when the performing arts are struggling, it is fitting that the wonderful New York Theatre Workshop is hosting a theatrical event that takes much of its inspiration from the early Greeks.  Similar to the dramas of that time, The Half-God of Rainfall combines elements of religious mythology, social commentary, and contemporary politics.

The piece opens with a nod to the ancient tradition of oral storytelling as the players introduce themselves with their real names along with their god-selves.  Working together, the performers weave a tapestry of poetry and dance as they tell the tale of Demi, the product of a particularly violent rape by Zeus: one of many abuses perpetrated by the King of the Gods against human women.  Having won a wager with Sàngó, a fellow god of Thunder, Zeus took as his prize Modúpé, who almost instantly gives birth to a half-god child, Demi.  His despair can make rivers rise and his rage can make it rain.  But his real power manifests on the modern basketball court where every shot is a winner. Despite his many victories, his smoldering rage against his father always burns.

In this realm, the gods of all traditions know one another and many are no better than the mortals over whom they have dominion.  Encompassing so many deeply felt themes occasionally bends the narration out of shape, but the dazzling visuals and all encompassing soundscape keep you enraptured. The audience was invested enough that towards the end they elicited a loud gasp at a critical moment.  While some familiarity with the various pantheons would be helpful, playwright Inua Ellams includes enough background information that the plot can be followed without it.  Even the basketball reference are based on pop culture and never “inside baseball” as it were.

Taibi Magar’s direction is masterful, filling the scene with otherworldly energy enhanced by movement director Orlando Patoboy.  She also incorporates Orisha movement choreographed by Beatrice Capote.  The set by Riccardo Hernández with projections designed by Tal Yarden is in constant motion with swirling images of clouds, water, and the cosmos itself.  The stage continues the natural theme, covered in black sand that moves and lets out a soft crunch beneath the actors’ feet.  The physical experience is expanded with the sound design of Mikaal Sulaiman and lighting designed by Stacey Derosier.  Costume designer Linda Cho builds on basic black towards the shimmering waters of a fertility goddess.

The ensemble moves with fluidity throughout the work, their disparate voices adding variation to the verse.  Mister Fitzgerald gives Demi a radiant joy.  Jennifer Mogbock brings both strength and warmth to Modúpé, her body moving with the combined powers of grace and strength.  Jason Bowen as Sàngó and Patrice Johnson Chevannes as Osún make a fittingly splendid couple under whose protection Modúpé lives.  Kelley Curran’s Hera and Michael Laurence’s Zeus employ unnecessary Greek accents, but the two shine in their other supporting roles.  Only Lizan Mitchell over-modulates, consequently distorting her lines as the trickster Elegba and several other deities. 

Mister Fitzgerald as Demi, The Half-God of Rainfall; photo by Joan Marcus

As many Greek heroes learned, a great adventure often begins by being blown off course.  This production was disrupted by COVID only to wind up in just the right hands.  The result is an ambitious epic that draws a diverse audience much needed by today’s theater world.  Despite its themes, The Half-God of Rainfall is a human-level spectacle born of collaboration and heart.  (There is a trigger warning for a depictions of sexual violence and a use of flashing lights and haze for dramatic effect.)  Performances continue at the New York Theatre Workshop (79 East 4th Street) through August 20 and $65 tickets are available at https://www.nytw.org/show/the-half-god-of-rainfall/.  Runtime is about 90 minutes and mask-only performances are available.  A co-production of NYTW and Harvard’s American Repertory Theater, the show will be moving next to Cambridge, MA in September.

Our Daughters, Like Pillars – Boston and Streaming

Playwright Kirsten Greenidge understands the impact of order: birth order, marriage order, and trying to keep order.  In her family drama Our Daughters, Like Pillars, she explores the significance of order in three full acts, allowing her characters to leisurely reveal their affecting histories and conflicting hopes for the future.  

This was my third viewing of a Huntington Theater play made possible by their digital insurance policy.  These offerings are not films, but rather live capture of a singular experience using 10-12 cameras.  While nothing can replicate the energy of sharing a performance with an in-person audience, The Huntington’s digital works offer quality productions to those who remain unable to sit in a venue with strangers.  All three had exceptionally clear audio. My first of these was the darkly funny Teenage Dick, energetically directed by Moritz von Stuelpnagel with a first rate cast.  This stream was later shared with the Pasadena Playhouse for an extended run.  Next was Toni Morrison’s devastating The Bluest Eye gorgeously adapted by Lydia R. Diamond.  Director Awoye Timpo’s swirling camerawork allowed home audiences to better view the characters’ movements around a stage poignantly shaped like a chopped tree stump.  With Kimberly Senior’s traditional proscenium staging, Our Daughters, Like Pillars uses more expressive close-ups than shifting angles, but it never loses pacing. 

The story revolves around the three Shaw sisters who are vacationing in a house rented by oldest sister Lavinia (Seldes-Kanin fellowship winner Nikkole Salter) and her husband.  What should be a celebratory time of togetherness turns increasingly tension-filled as Vinny becomes progressively more controlling of her siblings and their mother.  Having felt isolated during the first year of COVID, Vinny’s vision is to have the entire family under one roof on a permanent basis.  But though she tries tactical cajoling, needling guilt, and outright manipulation, that goal is not shared either by people-pleasing middle sister Octavia (Arie Thompson) or youngest Zelda (Lyndsay Allyn Cox) who has only just taken her first steps towards independence.  We gain a deeper understanding of the siblings through their mother Yvonne (Lizan Mitchell) and their stepmother Missy (Cheryl D. Singleton) who are each given profound fourth-wall breaking monologues.  Race and class play important but smaller roles in the script.

Lyndsay Allyn Cox, Arie Thompson and Nikkole Salter; Photo by T Charles Erickson

While the spotlight is clearly on the women — by turns strong and brittle — it is the two men who supply the softness.  Genuine light shines from Julian Parker’s Paul King, Zelda’s casual conquest living by his wits who gets caught up in the whirl of family conflict. And Postell Pringle portrays Vinny’s husband Morris with intensity as he tries to rein in his wife’s darker, more destructive instincts.  The set by Marion Williams includes several levels which provides a feeling of movement to the dialogue-heavy drama.  The family is tightly contained, with the outside world intruding only through the ringing of a telephone.  Costumes by Sarita Fellows add essential color and flow while Jane Shaw’s sound incorporates music from Prince to Sam Cooke.

At 3 ½ hours including two 15 minute intermissions, Our Daughters, Like Pillars, indulges in the kind of rolling storytelling rarely seen since March 2020.  It is playing at the Huntington’s Wimberly Theatre in Boston through May 8 and On Demand through May 22.  Prices range from $25 – $99.  For tickets and information visit https://www.huntingtontheatre.org/plays-and-events/.