Thursday night, Production Workshop's downstairs space became a video game arcade for the sneak preview of "The Other Side of the Closet," the latest creation of playwright-director Frances Cowhig '05.
Though its title might suggest otherwise - those in search of a Starf*ck pre-party may be in for a disappointment - the play is actually a death-affirming tale of suicide, sibling relations and the spirit world. The play begins on a somber note. Mourning the suicide of her younger brother 17 (Laura Green '06), 21 (Valery Estabroo '05) is an Asian-American striving to understand his untimely departure to the Chinese Land of the Dead. Fortunately, she may still have a chance at inner peace, so long as the sadistic Goddess of Mercy (Jackie Chen '06) and her mischievous consort, the Monkey King (Russel Benner '06), are willing to grant her access to their Stygian kingdom.
What follows is a sort of metaphysical cross between Orpheus and Euridice and "The Neverending Story," as 21 communicates with her brother's ashes from her place among the living in hope of reaching him. Eventually, her portal to the spirit world can be found in the form of Dance Dance Revolution, the über-video game too dorky to describe here.
Astoundingly, Cowhig wrote her play in one semester under the careful guidance of Pulitzer-winning playwright Paula Vogel. Born to a Taiwanese mother and American father, the senior is no newcomer to the theater - her first play, "The Golden Lotus," was performed two years ago at Brown's Rites and Reason theater. She now attends workshops alongside MFA graduate students, and her script is imbued with an intimate sense of East Asian tradition and mythology.
Asked to summarize her creative vision, however, Cowhig seems more interested in the play's human elements. "I'm proud of the fact that this is the first Asian-themed play at PW since 1995," she said after its final dress rehearsal, "but I'm really hoping that my work sparks open dialogue about suicide, which I believe has been stigmatized."
Were this the playwright's sole objective, the production would appear to be an undeniable success. Cowhig is a young playwright with numerous talents at her disposal, most notably a gift for supplying her small cast with powerful, devastating language. "I've started cutting again," starts the ghost of 17 in a particularly forceful bit of monologue, and a near-palpable hush falls over the audience.
As a director, the playwright displays an equally formidable knack for articulate staging. The set, like something only the imaginations of David Bowie or M. C. Escher could dream up, is furnished with a labyrinth of mobile cubes, which the actors are free to scale with mountain-climbing agility. Behind the scenes, the savvy of set designer Peter Wu '07 is also evident. Bringing Dance Dance Revolution to the stage, a brilliant, disorienting mélange of lights and queer techno endow the morbid drama with much-needed energy.
In fact, with such credentials, the only things barring "Closet" from excellence are its actors' uneven performances. As 21, Estabroo is clearly a confident actress, though she may suffer from the overwrought affectations of one left with too much interpretive autonomy. In turn, Green's "adolescent" - as described by the play's program notes - is sensitively portrayed, her boyishness believably masculine. Still, since when are 17-year-olds boyish? Green plays him as a demented prepubescent.
The more winning, spirited performance is perhaps to be found in Chen's sassy, dominatrix - think Material Girl meets Mulan - Goddess of Leather Gear. In counterpoint to her boot stomping, Benner is baffling as an actor, but fun to watch in his full-face pancake makeup nonetheless.
These harajuku hijinks may be overly camp, but with dialogue this moving, such shortcomings are hardly impossible to overlook. Ultimately, the play provides something for everyone - and emotional depth for even the most bumbling of anime geeks.
"The Other Side of the Closet" runs April 15-18 at 8 p.m., and April 16 at midnight in the Production Workshop's Downstairs Space.
