Bait Festival (Buenos Aires in Translation) A Festival of 4-English Language World Premieres P. S. 122 November 2006 Reviewed by Lauren Possee

The Bait Festival took place at PS122 for two and a half weeks of November 2006. Here is a quote from their press release: " Buenos Aires is renowned as the playwriting epicenter of Latin America. Particularly over the past decade, new theatre from Argentina has captured the attention of South America, Europe, Australasia and now, the United States. BAiT (Buenos Aires in Translation) epitomizes true international theatrical collaboration, bringing together four of the most dynamic playwrights from Buenos Aires and pairing them with four cutting-edge U.S.-based directors to present a repertory program of English language world premieres. This is the first time that any of these remarkable playwrights will have their plays presented in the United States."

New York Cool contributing writer Lauren Possee attended and reviewed two of the four plays.

Federico Leon's
Ex-Antwone
BAIT Festival, P.S. 122

Reviewed by Lauren Possee

The best pieces of live theatre are not those with intricate plots, but those that establish fully dimensional characters and relationships. As an audience we are interested in the human condition; we want to connect and recognize ourselves through the script. Ex-Antwone, written by Federico Leon and translated by Jean Graham-Jones, accomplished this. As stated in the program, “This hyper-fragmented text imagines a dreamlike encounter with the past, navigating a labyrinth where memories, fantasies and being overlap in an unconscious way.” The experience was similar to watching one of Michel Gondry’s films, where events of the subconscious and reality overlap.

Ex-Antwone explores the relationship between Antwone and Stella, a mentally retarded woman who alludes to having had reconstructive facial surgery. It is unclear throughout the play if Stella is actually there or part of Antwone’s subconscious mind or imaginative state. The theatre-in-the-round set-up of the performance space established an intimate atmosphere that worked to the actors’ advantage. A combination of floor cushions and folding chairs was unique and made the audience feel more actively involved in the story.

Liz Dahmen was captivating and delivered a genius performance as Stella. Playing a mentally retarded woman has its obvious challenges, but Dahmen should be commended for her strong use of physical comedy. Rather than falling into traps of cliché or mimicking a woman with disabilities, Dahmen’s creation of Stella was incredibly human and therefore gave the audience permission to laugh. Miguel Govea in the role of Antwone, on the other hand, was a few degrees shy of amazing. He failed to follow through on physical choices, which caused his words and actions to seem detached. For example, in a scene where he banged down the bathroom door in attempt to get Stella to come out, his words seemed desperate but his actions did not. He awkwardly threw his body into the door without much force, and the entire moment lost all validity.

A television set suspended from the ceiling and served as a source of communication between Antwone and his mother, a part of his subconscious. Mother, identified in the program simply as “video mom,” was brilliant. Although her entire performance was through a television set, it truly felt like she was in the room. There were moments of dialogue between Mother, Antwone, and Stella, and the actors’ timing for the most part was impeccable. The use of a television set as a character was an innovative idea that worked marvelously.

The ending moment was a bit preachy. The lights went down, and Antwone delivered a monologue over the sound system that made little sense and was uncomfortably long. Although the final moments may not have been particularly effective, the bold choices made by the actors, writer, and director made the overall experience of Ex-Antwone a positive one.

Rafael Spregelburd's
Panic
BAIT Festival, P.S. 122

Reviewed by Lauren Possee

Absurdist theatre: it’s not for everyone. An acquired taste, this performance style does not provide an audience with clear-cut answers or a conventional story line. The experience is similar to attending a Jackson Pollok art exhibit; the paintings are open to interpretation and the artist’s intention is to evoke some sort of emotional or physical response. Panic, written by Rafael Spregelburd and translated by Jean Graham-Jones, did exactly that. The response went something like this: “WHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAT???”

An eccentric plot is to be expected with this style of theatre, but in this case, the playwright took it a step too far. Panic was bizarre for the sake of being bizarre. While there were a few sequences that delivered comic genius, the majority of the play was filled with over-the-top writing and directorial choices, even for an absurdist piece. This was no fault of the actors. In fact, the acting was the saving grace of the show. It was clear that they believed in what they were saying, and it was inspiring to witness such commitment. The audience may have been confused, but there was a strange comfort in trusting that the actors knew what they were talking about.

Panic was a farce. It is impossible to summarize a plot, because in its place were a series of unconnected events and characters. The set was simple, but for the most part, effective. For instance, in a scene entailing a series of answering machine messages, a number of hanging red light bulbs illuminated with each corresponding beep. It was simple and it worked. Other choices made by director Brooke O’Harra were not as successful. In a later scene, a family gets tied up while searching for a safety deposit box key. During the scene’s entirety, there was a Cabbage Patch doll hanging from the ceiling. Not only was it distracting, it had no connection to the action in the scene. In addition, there was a brief three minute break in the middle of the show in which the audience was instructed not to leave. The lights came up, and for the entire three minutes Guido Sosa, played by Scott Lyons, visibly did push-ups in the exposed bathroom. This seemed like a waste of time, and an unnecessary choice that again seemed weird or the sake of being weird.

One of the funniest and most memorable moments was the reoccurring interpretive dance sequence. Tina Shepard had a commanding presence as renowned choreographer Elyse Bernard, who attempted to create a brilliant performance with a company of four girls. The “rehearsal process” was completely ridiculous and disconnected from other events in the play, but the fact that it was taken so seriously by all five women made it hilarious. Another interesting aspect was the use of live musicians throughout the show, especially in this sequence. Jubal Falks played violin and Sam Hillmer rotated between tenor saxophone, clarinet, and harpsichord. This was a bold choice that gave the show a unique twist; however there were several moments where it was difficult to distinguish between performance art and live theatre.

All in all, there seemed to be too much effort placed into making strange choices, rather than trying to communicate the playwright’s words. The script was strange enough without having to confuse the audience further with hanging babies and unnecessary push-up sequences. If the goal of attending absurdist theatre is not to have a literal understanding but to walk away feeling affected in some way, Panic did no live up to that standard.