 |
| Foreground: Campbell Idol as Jesse. Background: Sophie Tananbaum as Hallie, Becky Rusch as Alicia, and Brady Dalton Richards as Matt. Photo by Mikiodo. |
Plot and Background
Matt, a former New York actor, seeks a new start as a high school drama teacher in a small town in Illinois. As he attempts to engage the children on local events by encouraging them to craft a devised docu-play about the question of a nuclear power plant being built in their dying factory town, he encounters Jesse, a troubled young student with acting potential but a strong resistance to engagement as he wrestles with his sexuality. Thoughts:
Play: Rowan's play is well-constructed with a strong line of tension powerfully carried by director Graydon Gund. The dialogue is unstilted and honest, and I care about each character onstage, their wants and needs, as well as their individual hang-ups. I spent the show genuinely concerned for how things would shake out, desperate for a happy ending, but aware of the warning signs that we were headed for trouble. Matt moves into a spare room in the high school counselor's house, and proceeds to help around the house (including raking and burning the titular leaves), inadvertently inciting a crush in the recently-divorced Jane. He continues to unconsciously stir pots when he eschews the idea of putting on a musical (to the intense frustration of student Alicia, who has been counting on landing a leading role as a senior), favoring instead scenes from Shakespeare and Tennessee Williams, until he lands on the concept of the devised theater piece. And finally, in his biggest slip in judgement, he ignores the resistance of both counselor Jane as well as Jesse's hostile (and homophobic) father to encourage Jesse to pursue an acting career. Of course things will go badly. The best intentions, etc.
While Matt is, frankly, not a good teacher for a group of high schoolers still figuring out who they are, he is also simultaneously a good mentor for artists discovering their inner aptitudes: Hallie, the daughter of his landlord/school counselor Jane, shows an innate attunement for how to craft disparate elements from raw interviews into a coherent narrative. He recognizes (as does she) that though she is no actor, she can be a capable playwright (and, though they don't say it, a strong dramaturg). Jesse, meanwhile, demonstrates strong instincts with his connections to Hamlet's struggles, finding a way to externalize his own unspoken pain and fear. Where Matt falls short, continually, is in knowing how to balance his instincts of open vulnerability (no doubt a carryover from his time in the downtown New York theater space) with the boundaries needed to effectively teach teenagers without any lines being crossed. He's already off to a bad start by living in the spare room of the school counselor, which means cohabiting with one of his own students; but when his interest and kindness to Jesse spurs the teenage boy to not only come out to him but to also express his love for him, Matt completely fails to properly establish boundaries to protect not only the vulnerable child but also himself (for that matter, he should have immediately reported when Jesse confirmed his father beat him). Though it's clear he feels protective of Jesse and doesn't want to hurt him, what little he does to enforce boundaries is ineffective. It's also clear he understands on some level that what he's doing is wrong, hiding from Jane the full extent of their connection. Though he never crosses the physical boundary that would lead to actual molestation of a minor, his relationship to Jesse, with its inherent power dynamic and age gap, is not a safe environment for a vulnerable boy, especially when the shit hits the fan.
What follows, then, at least for this audience member, is both a lingering frustration with a deeply flawed protagonist, and a strong protective instinct for the teenage boy, hoping against hope that he will come out of all this safe and with the potential to lead a happy life.
