The poster for RISE’s production of Saint Joan features the titular character’s face composed of four different images, posing the question: “Who do you say she is?” This graphic sets the stage for a telling of Joan of Arc’s story that explores the many faces of the simple farm-girl-turned-heroine of France.
Often considered one of George Bernard Shaw’s greatest plays (it did, after all, win him a Nobel Prize in literature), Saint Joan can be most succinctly described as nearly three hours of men doubting Joan while also being inexplicably moved by her. Though set in the Middle Ages during the Hundred Years War between England and France, director Chris O’Neil opted to sprinkle in modern elements, including the costumes designed by Galen Auer and Rose Linnell, projections denoting the setting of each scene and an occasional cell phone or iPad. Of course, the characters also use swords, so it is truly a hodgepodge of past and present. The way the play is framed, it springs from the imagination of a Child from Somewhere Else (7-year-old Shannon Ambrosino), who, before the start of the play, is sitting under a table reading a picture book about Joan (when she’s not skipping around the set, that is) in the burnt-out husk of a church, entangling aspects of the more historically accurate images of the book with what she knows of life today. Why is there a child hanging out in the burnt-out husk of a church, you may ask? Unclear, but the broken stained glass, the altar the audience has to walk under as they enter for added immersion, and the cardboard backing with graffiti and a tactical map of France drawn by the ensemble that is updated as Joan gets closer and closer to liberating France, designed by Pat Ferron and Chris O’Neil, are pleasingly creative.
It’s little wonder that such a play would endure a surge in possibility now; the story of a revolutionary woman who persisted nevertheless is exactly the sort of story the world demands. Its resurgence includes a recent Broadway revival starring Condola Rashad, who earned the revival its sole Tony nomination. This tidbit is rather telling: There is exactly one remarkable thing about the play, and it is its titular role.
Taking on this behemoth of a part is 21-year-old Beacon alum Rain Blair Jolicoeur. From her first entrance, in which she convinces Robert de Baudricourt (Anthony Medeiros) to send several of his men with her to lift the siege in Orleans, there is a strength to her presence that bewilders and ultimately sways people vastly more powerful than her. As multiple characters note, “There is something about this girl.” Even with her strength and determination, Jolicoeur’s performance also brings out a more vulnerable side to Joan, and reminds us that she was, in the end, just a girl. She may have led armies and bent the will of kings, but she was also lonely and afraid. Her cries of rage and despair when she discovers she must either be burned at the stake or face a life of imprisonment are utterly haunting. It’s a highly humanizing portrayal of a figure who it is easy to see as more than human.
Save for an underutilized ensemble consisting of Aimee Ambrosino, Shannon Ambrosino, Caitlin Conner Rouleau and Britney Simard, Joan is the only woman of the 20 characters in the show. This makes this show a rather baffling choice for a community theater, considering community theater groups often have a notoriously tough time filling their male roles. With enough double casting, they managed the task, but not without Chris O’Neil having to step into two roles at the last second. While everything is centered on a strong heroine, and having a cast of men standing in opposition presents a feminist undertone of a woman leaving her mark on a man’s world, it doesn’t make much sense considering the talent available.
Be that as it may, one of the more memorable performances is Galen Auer as Charles VII, the pompous prig, every bit as fabulous as he is petulant, who Joan eventually crowns as king of France. The reluctant ruler and even more reluctant fighter who people only put up with because of his “blood royale,” is easily the most comedic part of an otherwise tragic play, from his tiara right down to his sparkly heels. “Charlie,” as Joan calls him, is also central to the epilogue, in which the charges against Joan have just been reversed (for all the good it did her; she couldn’t exactly be unburned), and the central characters come back to reveal their fate and learn of Joan’s canonization from the Child from Somewhere Else. It all happens in a nightmare, Christmas Carol-style, while wrapped up in a Pokemon duvet, clutching a stuffed animal.
At nearly three hours, it is a long play (and be warned: the chairs at RISE are not the most comfortable), and Shaw’s writing can be lofty. It also doesn’t help that some of the actors sometimes lack diction – in particular, in the first scene, it was difficult to understand what was going on – and a few seem unsure of their lines. But there are a few standout performances, and Joan’s story is as important and poignant as it was when this version was penned nearly a century ago.
Saint Joan runs through Mar 31 at the RISE Playhouse. For tickets, visit ristage.org