About three hours ago - from when I first started writing this - I was walking up to IC's Dillingham building to see "Man from Nebraska". I was decently excited, when I sat down in my seat my excitement spiked. The theater, a small one I guess, was set up with the stage in the middle of the room. Around it were four sets of bleacher-like seats that went up about six or seven rows. I suppose I shouldn't say "stage" - it really was the floor. Lines like a stone walkway had been drawn on it, and the room was dark. There must have been some sort of misty stuff in the air because the spotlights were perfect cones as they shined down on the actors.
I love seeing a play, reading a book, or watching a movie - even listening to a really good piece of music. You become so wrapped up in what is going on that you forget yourself. It's like you don't exist for a while - you've been reduced to a pair of eyeballs that forget they can look away.
As soon as the lights went down and the play was done, somebody near me immediately started clapping. He probably thought he was being supportive and showing how much he liked it, but I think it was really quite rude. It was quite jarring to me - I was in the process of coming back to reality and this guy's obnoxious clapping was like a slap in the face. It was like he was completely unmoved by what he had seen. But, then again, somebody has to be the first to clap. Maybe it made him feel brave, maybe he resurfaces quicker than I do...
Anyways...well since now I'm feeling like ranting I guess I'll continue on. The one thing that bothered me about IC's rendition was the voice of the girl who played Tamyra, Jasmine Harris. Tamyra lives in London, but the accent she had this evening was not right. It was a mix of the straight, proper British accent that you'd expect from the Queen or something, and it slipped sometimes like she wasn't quite sure what she was doing. It was just bizarre - not something you'd expect from a Bohemian bartender struggling to make ends meet.
Another thing that was odd (but really couldn't be helped) was that everybody looked a whole lot younger than they were supposed to be, but then again, the actors were all college kids, and grey wigs on twenty-year-olds look cheap.
Now, onto how awesome the show was!
A quick summary: Ken and his wife, Nancy, are good practicing Baptists who live a dull and repetitive life. Then, one night, Ken realizes that he doesn't believe in God. Nancy can't understand him, and the Reverend Todd recommends that Ken go on vacation. Ken decides to go to London, where he (it is implied), after a steamy encounter, has an affair with a forceful woman he met on his flight over. He befriends the bartender at his hotel, Tamyra, and takes lessons in the art of sculpture from her druggie rommate, Harry. Back in America, Nancy is distraught, and is being told, from her daughter - who disowns Ken over a heated phone call - and from the Reverend's father (who is very much flirting with her) that Ken has left her for good. Ken's sickly mother dies, and he makes the trip back to America for her funeral. Nancy shares that she feels they don't have a marriage anymore, but the play ends with Ken stretching out his hand towards her, and with Nancy cautiously accepting.
The idea of Ken's 'crisis of faith' sturck something in me, and I connected really strongly with him and his problem. His late-night breakdown in the bathroom was what got me - I'm not sure why. Maybe it was the commonplace location of such a serious and deep questioning, whatever it was, it was such a powerful scene, definitely my favorite. Ken's acting in that scene was also very good, although I thought he could have seemed a little more distraught. I would have liked to see some tears, both in the bathroom scene, and when Ken sees Harry's sculpture. The dialogue between him and Nancy in that scene was intense, and I could understand both of their feelings at the same time.
Something about Ken's crisis, and the almost...horror of his daily monotony I found very powerful and strong. I feel like that's a challenge of modernity that we all have to come to terms with. Maybe it's something that happens most often to Americans. Maybe it's because our culture isn't founded on ancient traditions and things. American history is so brief and we don't really have an identity (or a good one anyways). I'm not sure, at least that's what I feel like.
I think there's something in the human soul, deep down somewhere, that rebels against materialism and modern life, while the rest of ourselves is addicted to it. I felt like that had a hand in Ken's crisis. He was looking for God and the divine in his life, and couldn't find it anywhere. That, to me, is the most powerful and sucessful thing in Man from Nebraska.
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