REVIEW: Eureka Day (Theater J)
When I saw One Battle After Another in theatres, the friend I attended with praised -- and derided -- the film for its satire of leftist purism. It's easy to not change society, or return to a "before" time; the blueprint exists by definition. But when the future is so infinite, the multitude of paths that open sow discord. Nonsuch more is the case than in current times, a zeitgeist that director Paul Thomas Anderson, or PTA, attempted to capture in OBAA. The metaphors in this film can still feel heavy-handed and fantastical, however. As critically adored as it was, from an oratorical perspective, the messaging of broader left-wing progressiveness gets blurred by its rampant action and racial idealpolitik. It made for great popcorn-oriented pat-yourself-on-the-back Good Guy content, but was detached from the reality of actual organizing that the viewer could actually accomplish. Do you want to know where the someof this real left infighting is happening? It's not at some revolutionary convent in the desert, or an isolated boreal cabin. Just ask playwright Johnathan Spector: it's among the other kind of PTAs, the ones in the schools of nominally liberal communities, right in your backyard. His 2018 drama(-dy?) Eureka Day covers this with a surprising level of class, nuance, and humor, and after winning a Tony for Best Play Revival in 2024, it was scheduled to make its DC return (it played at Mosaic in 2019-20) at the Kennedy Center before External Forces(TM) canned it. But have no fear: Haley Finn and her team at Theater J have arrived to pick up the pieces.
Book
Berkeley, California is one of the crunchiest, granola-y towns in the country. And before it became the new base for the Summer of Love boomers once they got older, it was home to the University of California, one of the foremost research universities in the world. Surely, everyone is pro-science and pro-health in this revered community.
At Eureka Day (School), a private elementary school in town, the board is diverse and passionate, and operates solely by consensus. Each year, a spot on the board frees up for a new parent which ensures things stay fresh. And what is democracy if not a spiraling pool of fresh ideas? Just as long as the ideas aren’t offensive or exclusionary, that is. Eureka Day prides itself on inclusion. But it’s this exact situation that gets shaken up when someone gets sick with measles. The Eureka Day board then has to grapple with a sudden quarantine and ever-growing list of infected children. Spector approaches this conflict with an initial bout of satire that is pretty enjoyable. Think: parental couples that have “moved through” monogamy, Facebook-endowed tech dads, farmers market warriors, and a well-to-do lesbian mom who is new in town. Their discourse is biting and natural, which creates a great canvas to paint the culture conflict upon. But don’t expect a laugh-a-thon. The comedy comes to a screeching halt about a third of the way through, after a hysterical zoom call with incredibly (see: terrifyingly) realistic messages from Concerned Parents regarding vaccines and modern medicine. This several-minute-long exchange is seriously delightful as a theatrical event, and showcases some of Spector’s best writing in the piece, but the comedy does distract from the non-virtual characters who are speaking while messages flood the projections. And after the first loose “👍”, the attention sticks to the message stream until the laptop is shut. If there were serious character lines happening during this sequence, they were quite easy to miss. After the comedy is squeezed dry by this scene, remaining 70 minutes are markedly more serious, covering the more sullen debate of “to vax, or not to vax”. Johnathan Spector treads carefully in how he handles the “not to” camp, which was a pleasant surprise. I, personally, know too many people in the sciences and have had too acceptably low an amount of preventable diseases to have any animosity towards inoculation, and so I expected the characters representing just that to be flat and evil for evil’s sake. Instead, Spector creates a profound and sympathetic vehicle for the anti-vax movement without conceding ground to them and endorsing the endangerment of children; a potentially Herculean task. This opens up a decent dialogue about the motivations of opposing ideologies, one that exposes the viewer to a relatable injustice that was approached from a more cynical, if not uninformed, angle. And curiously, this all originally came out before COVID! But, it has been tweaked a little since then to reflect the current climate; I won't say quite how, but it does elicit some “sheesh”-es. 7/10
Acting
The quintet ensemble is full of DC favorites. Nobody “stars”, but some roles take on specific devices, which creates a false hierarchy when the book allows each to shine in their own ways. Susan Rome’s facetious n’ friendly Suzanne doesn’t lead the board, but…she still leads it. Even though the more timid Don (Eric Hissom) heads the meetings, there seems to be an unspoken understanding on who dictates the conversation, a structure that newby Carina (a powerful Renee Wilson) seems to inadvertently disrupt. The remaining duo of Eli and Meiko (Johnathan Feuer & Lilli Hokama) are attractively tart, too, giving heft to a relatively weak B-plot. 7/10
Production
The set by Misha Kachman is visually superb, and what it lacks in physical usability it makes up for in sheer detail. Luckily, director Finn doesn’t dictate the action have to do so anyway as most of the action takes place downstage. Colin Bills’ lighting also has a great role to play, and the one scene with Kelly Colburn’s projections are one of the highlights of the evening. 7/10
Viz
I’m such a huge fan of this set, and the good news is that you get plenty of time to absorb it if you show up early enough. More children’s books than you can shake a stick at, and even the giant cardboard tree in the center doesn’t get in the way (…that much, at least). The bright colors and rounded edges of it all are as inviting to the viewer as it would be a kindergartener, and the vivid primary colors are part of the package in its fickle yet inviting key art. In the Edlavitch Center, elementary school decor greets you via interactive stickers and crayon activities, a nice touch. 8/10
Verdict
Eureka Day is a smart, measured analysis of the perils of non-vaccination hiding behind a brief comedic element. 29/40
