Head South and Give an Ear to God’s Ear

This is an interesting time for Rhode Island theater, as the seemingly isolated and disparate companies proliferating the Ocean State are beginning to form some interesting collaborative partnerships. Aside from the Rhode Island Performance Exchange (an informal communal gathering of the state’s performing entities, pro and amateur alike) there is the newly formed Rhode Island Theatre Alliance (RITA), encompassing three noteworthy independents – Mixed Magic Theatre, Epic Theatre and the critically acclaimed Contemporary Theater Company. CTC quietly goes about its business delivering quality productions, but rarely gets acknowledgement outside of South County. Artistic Director Chris Simpson likes to refer to the “Cranston-Dixon Line” that enables RI theatergoers to ignore CTC and the solid work done by Westerly’s Granite Theater. However, it is productions such as CTC’s current God’s Ear that remind us of how much good work is happening below Exit 10 that doesn’t require waiting for Matunuck to open its doors. CTC forms the Southern outpost of this new triumvirate, with Mixed Magic and Epic stemming from the Pawtucket base of the

Hope Artiste Village, but all three companies have committed to sharing resources and reinforcing the notion that the dozens of entities vying for space and attention in RI can collaborate while presenting their own unique visions.

Simpson, who directs God’s Ear, has an eye for the elegantly surreal, and author Jenny Schwartz (not to be confused with local playwright Lenny Schwartz) has crafted an absurdly poetic and often darkly humorous study of a family struggling to cope with the death of a son. God’s Ear, as a play, is neither fish nor fowl – at points, the actors sing wistful, bizarre gems with live accompaniment and Simpson’s blocking veers toward choreography, but this is not a musical. Matt Requintina’s original melodies are sparse, but appropriate, and the songs serve as the only respites to language that rarely says what it means. The breakdown of communication that occurs after the protagonists, Mel (Amelia Giles) and Ted (Jesse Dufault), lose their son in a tragic accident is often heart wrenching, but there are far too many often guilty moments of hilarity for this to be strictly a drama. Dark lyrical comedy will have to suffice and this production manages to capture generous doses of all three elements.

The open stage is mostly unadorned save for a bar and a scattering of plastic army soldiers scattered about. We learn immediately that Ted, who broods silently onstage while the audience filters in, has been waiting for Mel to deliver the news of their son, a victim of accidental drowning. From there, time and logic become taffy, stretching back and forth as Mel copes with waiting for Ted to come home from unnamed business trips and their daughter Lanie (Ashley Macamaux) takes refuge in imaginary (?) visits from the Tooth Fairy (a charmingly wispy Brynne Sawyer). It doesn’t matter if the symbols in God’s Ear are obvious – that’s the point. Here, clichés are not only accepted, but refried, turned on their head and beat into the ground. As the family’s communication breaks down to the point of ridiculousness, the language they employ becomes poetry and says more than simple sentences could ever convey. “Life is short,” we’re told. “Yes, life’s a shrimp,” is the only reply lest we go insane.

It is the aforementioned musical interludes where language is not turned on its head, but becomes sweetly straightforward. No one here is a belter, just real people communicating through a different medium when words begin to fail. Christine Cauchon’s Lenora, a tempting distraction to Ted’s woes during his overlong excursions, comes the closest to anything resembling a Broadway diva here, but that doesn’t detract from anyone else’s efforts. Miles Martin’s transvestite stewardess (yes, really) has perhaps the best musical moment in the show besides Sami Avigdor’s Avenue Q-like treatise on “things you can’t sell on eBay.” Macamaux’s slightly flat introductory number only lends greater vulnerability and pathos to her struggling little girl, hoping to find love and friendship in a world where all of the men and boys seem to have gone away. What is most telling is that Ted and Mel never sing, stuck in a morass of idiom and wordplay. Movement and touch supplant language and Simpson’s  Viewpoints-derived staging comes across as touching and childlike while delivering some structure to what could be an evening of “look how fast I can talk” showboating. To that end, some of the cast appeared slightly uneasy by the stream of puns, malapropisms and rapidly changing answers to the same questions. It is Cauchon who excels the most at making the language real while still retaining its absurd flow, but Simpson is able to pull the best out of everyone. Giles’ handling of the script’s longest monologue, in which she flies into extreme doublespeak, yet reduces us all to the point of tears, is one of the most superb moments happening for any actor in the state right now.

God’s Ear is The Rabbit Hole meets Alice in Wonderland and beyond. It is filled with agonizing beauty, and a joyous celebration of the power of words. In one moment, we are wrapped up in the grief of loss and uncertainty, and in the next we are treated to the sheer silliness of GI Joe hooking up with the Tooth Fairy (which is delightfully creepy, actually) and contemplating feline venereal disease. CTC rarely, if ever, misses the mark, but God’s Ear will stand as one of 2013’s tiny triumphs. Pack a bag and make your way south of Cranston for a taste of what’s happening down South.

God’s Ear plays at the Contemporary Theater Company April 19, 20, 26, 27, May 10, 11, 16, 17, 18 at 7 p.m. and May 12 at 2 p.m. at 327 Main Street, Wakefield, RI