REVIEW: The Effects of Gamma Rays on Man-in-the-Moon Marigolds (Silver Spring Stage)

For my first foray to Silver Spring Stage, I was excited to check out Caro Dubberly’s production of the 1971 Pulitzer winner The Effects of Gamma Rays on Man-in-the-Moon Marigolds. You might know Caro from their dedicated presence in DC theatre, or you might know them for their incredible takes on it in their occasional show reviews. I will say, this definitely sets a record for longest review title. (It’s giving, “the full name of U Street metro”.) Ironically enough, the long name represents a properly bite-size production: about 90 minutes with an intermission. But lacking in punch, or flavor, this short show does anything but: not a second of time is wasted, and every joule of energy gets recycled around in this astounding production.

Book

The play covers the tumultuous relationships within the fractured Hunsdorfer family via the point of view of the youngest daughter, the introverted and bright Matilda (“Tillie”). Despite her profound interest in the sciences, her controlling mother Beatrice routinely prevents her from attending school or otherwise participating in the outside world. Often this is done through humiliation, put-downs, or outright insults. Tillie isn’t alone in this, though, as her extroverted sister Ruth bears a lot of the abuse too. To add insult to insult, there’s an elderly woman named Nanny living with them whom Beatrice reluctantly cares for to make some cash. The plot picks up as Tillie begins a science project in which she exposes the titular flowers to Cobalt-60 radiation.

It’s easy to immediately peg Beatrice as mean and unlikable based on her treatment of the others in the play, but Zindel’s layering of metaphors and devices around her — Tillie is a self-insert — was a clever storytelling device to follow. Beatrice is those descriptors outwardly, but there’s an undercurrent of complexity that takes the runtime of the play to understand. Her agoraphobia stemming from a history of ridicule and trauma, an abandoning husband, her lack of economic agency, and the budding success of her daughter, all combine to make a potent, reactionary venom that makes for a delectably rich antagonist. Additionally, Tillie is a terrifically grounded and pensive vehicle for the audience, showcasing a profound intelligence and will within her youth through these familial traps that drag you along for the tragic ride. Ruth, the sister, has severe mental health concerns herself, showcasing a similar controlling nature and propensity to put down those succeeding around her. Nanny has no lines but shows a knowing degree of autonomy in one particularly humorous scene.

The motif of atoms is present throughout the play. The most prescient example is through the elements these characters represent regarding Tillie’s relationship to Beatrice. Around the toxic nucleus of Beatrice are two electrons representing how this behavior can impact development. Ruth absorbs the negative energy and weaponizes it in return against her mother several times in the show, displaying a cold selfishness that aggravates all involved; in a way, the same path Beatrice followed herself, the “do unto others before they do to you” means of approach. But on the other side, Nanny could represent the more optimistic choice of solidarity with fellow sufferers, investing in your feelings of opposition to these behaviors and learning how to break the cycles; a sort of two-way mirror given her representation of the helpless life Beatrice would resent having.

It’s rare I see a show for the first time and immediately want to see a different production by virtue of its script alone. It’s even rarer this is from a playwright who isn’t exactly as widely known as some of his contemporaries. Paul Zindel’s opus won him a Pulitzer but certainly had its critics when released: it was too dark, too circular, too bruised. But perhaps the subtext was lost on them some half-century ago? 10/10 (Side note: does anyone else think this could have been one hell of a Sondheim musical?)

Acting

Electric performances are nuanced and incredibly-constructed across the board in Marigolds. Elizabeth Keith is so sensational as Beatrice, in fact, she had to apologize at my post-show talkback and assure us that she’s not that mean in real life. She has such a careless intensity in the role, whatever the opposite of joie-de-vivre is (haine-de-vivre?) is, with the tension of an old branch on the verge of snapping from a tree during a maelstrom. Irene Denniston’s Ruth is similar, carrying more youth in her step but with a stern, snappy, and totally engaging stage presence. Expertly foiling it all is the cooler Daphne Wheeler as Tillie, who relies more on body language and expression than her companions on stage but in ways that showcase the character incredibly well. 10/10

Production

The set (Kimberly Leone) and lighting (Trinity Joseph) are great. The staging takes place in a grocery store-turned-boarding home, one that Beatrice yearns to turn into a tea house; obviously, newspaper-covered windows put a damper on that for the time being, and the rustic illuminations reflect this. (Later on, ire becomes part of the scene with rosy-red undertones that I really appreciated.) Dubberly’s take on the show also features a more fantastical personality at times, beginning with a sequence involving glowing orbs that dance around the dark space and later utilizing their skills as the sound designer to engulf the audience in mental cataclysm during the climax of the show. 9/10

Viz

The warm promotional materials have a naturalistic flair, using the atom motif surrounded by flowers. It’s bare, but connects the ideas well enough for me. Onstage, rusty lights make for a dim stage, but illuminate the dismal, dejecting environment to make for a well-designed visual standoff between viewer and the stage. 7/10

Verdict

A controlled, thunderous production from director Caro Dubberly amplifies a nuclear-powered script with aplomb up in Silver Spring. 36/40