REVIEW: fire work (Theater Alliance)
I’ve been out of school for years now, but there’s a pang of nostalgia every back-to-school season. Sure, summer was ending, but to me it also meant a new beginning, one with all my friends and stories of their vernal adventures. Once you join the rat race, work is just Always Happening, so you just look at it from afar until you have kids of your own. But this year, it feels different somehow. This September brings with it a slew of new show openings here in the DMV; itself a back-to-school in a way as we kick off the 25-26 season in earnest and some houses make their last-second push for Helen Hayes contention to close out the year. Theater Alliance starts things off with fire work by Mary Glen Fredrick, and boy is the welccome a warm one.
Book
fire work is something of a labubu of play writing: innocent enough on the surface, with its scruffy exterior and cutesy eyes, but nonetheless harboring something sinister within that you just can’t quite put your finger on. Fredrick’s dialogue enforces this demeanor in the opening scene with a playful spat between Bartholomew and Eleanor, two kinda-married factory workers in a rusty dystopian American city. Bart returns home from work one day with a hearty raise (17 cents!), to the chagrin of his wife. It is initially unclear where her anger lies, until the audience discovers that Bart has a bed and supportive family back home, whereas Eleanor does not. And that she lives with her single mother, and he has a whole family of workers contributing to their living situation.
Oh, and that they’re both about 11 years old.
The macabre twist in the opening scenes is but one of the worms in this can. We’re also quickly introduced to a group of ruffians as they play their “Eat the Rich” school game, ranging from 5 to 11 years old apiece. Suddenly, Eleanor finds her spark, and the group its revolutionary muse. But the uptight Bart is less on-board, especially when they begin a plot to overthrow the local government on the eve of a legislative session that threatens to upend their whole way of life. Establishing the world and some of its downtrodden customs is where Fredrick’s storytelling shines in fire work, in which character motivations are complex yet vague enough to give the brain ample time to develop stories of their own. The characters, too, interact with their own mixes of bouncy prose, nonverbal gesticulation, and even subtle flirting. This prevents the piece from both taking itself too seriously and not seriously enough as the stakes get notably darker over its 90-minute runtime. In some regards, the fableness was a bit thin and the juxtaposition comedic — think Jamie Lloyd presents Codename: Kids Next Door — but its themes about class struggle are consistent and direct, and ferment into nuanced situations that end ambiguously. fire work covers the yin and yang of political revolution in a refreshingly succinct way, one that doesn’t stray from elements of dadaism nor dilapidated horror. 9/10
Acting
Theater Alliance has put together a brilliant ensemble. Anchored by a sparky Andrea Bellamore as an Eleanor who fights for her new world without foresight for the path of fire she’ll pave, she is joined by a jollier foil in Solomon Langley’s Bartholomew. Around them are a chemically astute gang of misfit toys in Madison Norwood’s smartly helmed Fox and Alina Collins-Maldonado’s firey Lula, flanked by a brilliantly emotive Eric Lane as Tug and a delightful and heartbreaking Victoria Gomez as Geraldina. In the truest sense of scene-stealing I can evoke, there’s a special appearance by either Sebastian Cummiskey or Chase Carolyn Williams (depending on the performance) late in the show, whose youth is a brilliant contrast to the efforts of the adult performances and is acted with a wickedness that was assuredly impressive. 10/10
Production
In fire work, Shanara Gabrielle’s direction can sometimes feel like a collection of loose parts; which is exactly what I think it should be. The DIY elements, underscored by the childish nature of the book, need to feel like they haven’t fully developed yet, and this is achieved superbly via Gisela Estrada’s sprawling set, Yannick Godts’ punchy lighting, and Johnathan Robertson’s strategic projections. Danielle Preston’s costumes are magnificently trashy, and I particularly enjoyed how she played with texture, grime, and color to depict character arcs and foreshadowing. 10/10
Viz
Alliance’s sketchy program art makes an appearance again this season, and though evocative of the scrappiness of their portfolio, this time it does not evoke a youth that would befit the premise. However, they make up for this in a few ways. The opening staging is broad and hasty, with a wide open concrete floor and some scaffolding around. The ceiling is in disarray, insinuating our existence within some piece of rusty infrastructure. Additionally, Theater Alliance provides several bits of pretext on their website, including a “these are the vibes” section that were spot on for this production. Sorry to Bother You is a very obvious comparison to make, and the vibes of “Calvin & Hobbes meets V for Vendetta” is….100% precise. Kudos to who came up with those. 9/10
Verdict
fire work is an interesting world premiere fable full of baroque worldbuilding and nuanced themes, put to stage with finesse thanks to a brilliant cast and use of the space. 38/40
