The Williams Project’s Pandemic Play Promises, But Does Not Fulfill
Photos by Michael B. Maine
The Williams Project produced Marisol, by José Rivera, at Equinox Studios in the Georgetown neighborhood of Seattle on an outdoor stage. The choice to produce this script appeared to be inspired by our mid-Pandemic circumstances. As an audience member, I appreciated the post-apocalyptic setting and the parallels of a pervasive disease that forces everyone to keep a distance from other people out of fear, without it being a direct reference to COVID-19. And although the script is from ~30 years ago, several lines referencing a chaotic government, catastrophic climate change, and constant-yet-pointless war rang relevant and true.
However, since the program contained no director's note*, I only had the Company Bio/Production History of The Williams Project to guide us as to why they might have chosen to produce Marisol. I wish that I had something more concrete to inform me, since upon reflection in the days after the production, the reasons for producing this play felt more forced and muddled than when I was watching the opening scenes. The Williams Project's production of Marisol did not appear to elevate the people—characters nor actors—who were at the center of the script. The script choice felt it was chosen primarily as an opportunity to display POC actors in a setting evocative of our own, but the staging lacked intentionality. Although the script contains perennially true meta commentary, its execution came off as dated and unnecessary. There were missed opportunities to feature some of the cast, opportunities which would have better withstood the script's poor treatment of women and confusing storyline.
The aesthetic of Equinox Studios in Georgetown was perfect, immersing the audience in an artistically gritty block where fabricators and artists co-mingle and constantly create. The DIY look and feel ensured that during the show—which was staged against the outbuilding framed by work lights (and occasionally the interior's fluorescents)—we could hear the entire cityscape, framing the production naturally both visually and aurally.
The Williams Project also chose to utilize microphones for their actors, which was a welcome feature. Having seen some of the summer park shows (Greenstage's Backyard Bard and Midsummer Nights Dream and Theatre22's most excellent adaptation of Alice in Wonderland) and struggling to hear some actors during those performances (while being overwhelmed by the boisterous choices of others), about midway through the production of Marisol I realized I had been taking the performers' microphones for granted. I was grateful to be able to hear them, and wondered how they would have done it without them.
Then, toward the last 15 minutes or so of the show, the lead actor's microphone fell off mid-action. No one picked it up (it was a small black bit on the dark ground and probably hard to see) and I assume nothing could have been done to repair it in the moment without breaking the action of the play, as I believe at that point, the lead actor does not leave the stage again. The result was an intimate performance for the front half of the audience and little to no comprehension for the back half because they could not hear a word. Although we all love and adore the mantra that keeps us coming back to live performance, if the show must go on, does it count if only half of the audience can hear it? Ideally, the actor would have projected more, but there was nothing to be done in the moment.
The actors delivered moderately strong performances, including the lead actor who played Marisol (despite not projecting enough for the rest of the audience toward the end). When there was something for her to do she performed well, but her interactions with the other characters did not always make sense. It appeared as if the director neglected her motivations and objectives in the scenes, especially with June and June's brother. The director also appeared to neglect the Angel for the majority of the show. In Marisol's first scene with the Angel, the Angel opened with clear motivations and started strong. As their interactions progressed, it felt as if the director did not know the Angel's motivations and had not discussed a superobjective with the actor, leaving them only to abide Marisol's panic in a stationary position that they were forced into by the constraints of the deliberately minimalist set.
The tone of June—Marisol's best friend and also someone she is looking for at the end of the play—was confusing throughout, although the actor gave a technically good performance. When Marisol is looking for June, I was confused. Why would Marisol do this? She was not established as a good friend from the moment she enters. After June coerces Marisol into a pit stop at her house, June's brother enters, forever shifting the dynamic of the play as he openly admits to stalking Marisol. June then complains about how hard her life is, a turn in the script that dismisses and undermines everything we learned about Marisol's situation in the opening scenes of the play. The motivation for Angel needing Marisol's assistance is subsumed at this point shifting the focus to confusing relationships and losing our tie-in to the "why now" of the play.
The two male actors, who played several roles, were talented and versatile although most of the characters they played were inevitably off-putting in some way, understandably increasing the discomfort of the world built by the play.
The outdoor setting enhanced the discomforting ambiance, but the minimalist set created some conundrums left unchallenged. In the incredibly long, off-putting pit stop at June’s place in which June's brother admits to Marisol his sick fantasies about her (that he has been telling June about for years) June refers to his art. So June's brother retreats to his room to get his "art" (which is pretty much a weapon since it's a piece of plywood dangerously stuck full of nails), they do more of the scene and then he goes back again to find some other art, all cleverly designed to be made of random wood offcuts from the scenic building. But the second round of art (now piled separately) was not necessary for the production. The random wood offcuts left a visually disinteresting prop onstage without contributing to the scene, and in an intentionally minimalist production, why involve more things to be moved around? When June kicks her brother out (finally) for being such a creepazoid to Marisol, she tells him to pack up all of his art. So June's brother gets a bag for his stuff. But instead of putting his second art pile into his bag, he leaves it on the table so it can be dumped in front of the stage during the subsequent scene change. This seemingly small prop moment is a metaphor for the lack of challenge presented to the exciting conundrums introduced by the choice to produce a post-apocalyptic play outside.
The final scene, staged on the roof of the building that had been the stage's back wall, was inspired. Although the end of the play was still unclear and the feeling in the air felt little like triumph, it ended well by virtue of being produced outdoors. One of the play's motifs was references to the moon's somewhat recent disappearance. On the night I saw the performance, there was a full moon but we could not see it, due to extensive cloud cover. Every time when I looked away from the stage to follow an actor or even just revel in the moment that I was getting to see a live production again, I would notice how there was no moon, just as it was in the play.
Overall, it was an interesting production, especially being the first fully staged production I had the opportunity to see since February 2020. (It was lovely to return to a genuine box office interaction, along with the little vax pass flash.) I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to watch a group of actors and a production crew come together to present something so well rehearsed, despite its inadequacies. I imagine it must be simultaneously exhilarating, surreal, difficult, exhausting, comforting, familiar, frustrating, exciting and amazing to be onstage and producing again and I am curious to see what play The Williams Project chooses to produce next and where.
Review Lead: Catherine Blake Smith
Review Team: Laura Chrisman
Note:
*Sponsored content published in Seattle Met for promotional purposes offers context from the director.
