theater
BY ANNA GRACE
The Power of Television
Strong direction, acting gives glow to The Ruby Sunrise
T
he barn and everything in it,
including Ruby’s prototype for the
fi rst television, is set ablaze. Why?
Because she failed, or because she even
tried to begin with?
The Ruby Sunrise takes a very small,
hugely important corner of history and
illuminates it in light of censorship,
prejudice and fear. Television — the
transmission of sound and pictures over the
air — was invented in 1927 by a few well-
funded men. Rinne Groff’s script imagines
a 17-year-old girl with the same dream,
twice the determination and everything in
the world stacked against her.
The play is divided into three parts: The
fi rst section takes place in rural Indiana
in 1927; part two is set in New York City
in 1952; the fi nal act melds the two times
and places with the device of a television
drama. It is an interestingly, if obviously,
crafted play. The initial awkwardness pays
off, by virtue of thoughtful performances
and compelling direction.
Part One: Ruby (Jessica Svetal) is racing
to create the fi rst television, seemingly un-
aware that she is a teenage girl lacking the
adequate resources. Her only battle is against
time — not against the aunt who doesn’t
want her, the abusive father she’s fl eeing or
the lovesick college boy who follows her
around, begging her to stop inventing.
Director Chris McVay paints a veneer of
heightened theatricality over the awkward,
staccato dialogue punctuated by long lumps
of technical jargon fl opping out. Brandon
Rumsey’s original score directs emotions
and places focus, but at some points forces
the actors to shout, pushing the audience
out of the story and back into their seats.
The single-minded technical diatribes
of inventor Ruby, the maudlin, drunken
waxings of Aunt Lois and the confused
confessions of love from Henry all play like
a melodramatic screenplay. The audience
waits, assuming all will be made clear. It is.
Part Two: We are snapped out of the
drama and into the witty world of a new
television studio, circa 1952. Ruby’s
daughter Lulu (a perfectly cast Leela
Gouveia) has landed herself a job as a script
coordinator and works to get her mother’s
story told. The labored conversations of
part one are replaced by clipped, cheerful
chitchat reminiscent of a Tracey/Hepburn
fi lm. This part feels hopeful, as though Ruby
and her dreams will live on. The actors fl esh
out the joyousness and humor. Chris Pinto is
funny, working the lines of Martin Marcus,
the pragmatic producer. Bruce McArthur is
smooth as the gifted screenwriter falling in
love with the gifted script girl. Everything is
just delightful. Until it isn’t.
Part Three: Groff’s script hauls us out
of the cheery world of detergent-selling
pitches into the era of McCarthyism and
censorship. Lulu unexpectedly explodes
and is fi red when the boys begin to tinker
Joseph Tanner Paul, Jessica Scetal and
Rebecca Nachison in The Ruby Sunrise
with her script in a manner she fi nds
insulting to her mother’s memory. Groff’s
moral indignation runs across the stage
like broad strokes of crayon as the actors
struggle to keep it real.
A real appreciation for the actors in part
one grows as they return in roles playing
their former selves. Particularly moving are
Rebecca Nachison as the aging star Ethel
Reed, and Jessica Svetal, a blacklisted
actress prevented from the role she’s born
to play. Honest emotion keeps the action
rolling until the script wends its way to a
satisfying conclusion.
See a Play, Save the World
Salmon is Everything goes to the heart of the matter
O
n the banks on the Klamath River, 75,000 salmon lay rotting. The stench of dead fi sh permeates every home and
looms over the stalemated battle for water rights. Tension has been building for more than 100 years, as misguided
governmental policy brings fourth a host of social problems, including the stratifi cation of the rancher and native
populations. This catastrophe was built by human hands and exacerbated by greed, and it threatens to wipe out the last of a
10,000-year-old culture.
This is not the description of a cleverly constructed plot, but the drama of our own history, as told by Theresa May and
the Klamath Theatre Project in Salmon is Everything. This is a play for the curious. If you feel like grappling emotionally
with a complex situation and stretching your understanding of how we are connected with the land supporting us, this is the
production to see. Purchase a ticket and prepare to learn.
The Klamath River is dammed; water is diverted to irrigate the farms growing potato, alfalfa and hay. When the water runs
low, the temperature of the river rises, making the salmon susceptible to disease. In 2002, 75,000 salmon died, washing up
on shore to rot. Director/creator/chief imaginer Theresa May was working then as an assistant professor at Humboldt State
University, and was determined to use the medium of theater to address the tragedy.
Her drive inspired two years of collaborative work with all major stakeholders, from Native fi shermen to third generation
ranchers, resulting in a theatrical experience that combines biology, anthropology, political science and theology to explain
the meaning of salmon.
Storytelling, the drama of a town hall meeting, indigenous dance, even a fl ashily lit “salmon rap” are all woven together.
This is not straight theater. For many of the people performing, this is their fi rst time on stage. Here, theater is used as the
means to solve a problem. Audiences are advised to put aside their expectations and simply listen.
Complex characters illuminate the issue of water rights from many angles. Julie (the engaging Shayleen Macy), a member
of the Karuk and Yurok tribes, dances between the culture of her home and the pressures of the outside world, struggling
to give voice to her concerns for the survival of her people. Kunu Dittmer brings energetic gravitas to Julie’s Yurok-Karuk
fi sherman husband, Will. Martin Diaz-Valdes plays an entrenched upper Klamath rancher with dignity and humanity. Sarah
Ruggles is wonderful as the dreadlocked do-gooder biologist, so caught up in the controversy of salmon that it brings her to
question her own faith in the primacy of facts, data and the proper path for social change. And throughout all the action and
drama, Maia Luer appears and disappears as the elegant, illusive Salmon Dancer.
Together, this cast educates the audience on a fascinating and diffi cult topic. Ordinarily, such lessons are transmitted
and understood though our minds. Facts are laid out and weighed and we shake our heads saying, “Gosh, too bad about the
salmon.” This production, while by no means lacking in information, is told through the heart. If you go, you will get it.
Salmon is everything. — Anna Grace
The Ruby Sunrise is not a tragedy.
Neither of the strong-willed women gets
what she wants, and the play contrasts
how individually they deal with their
disappointment. The struggle to succeed
against the odds is depicted in a refreshing
and charming manner, examining the issue
of when to compromise and when to fi ght.
Director McVay both focuses and softens
the imperfect script, eking out an important
story that is well worth seeing.
The Ruby Sunrise plays at the Very Little Theatre through
June 11; tickets and info at www.thevlt.com
Authentic
Glee-Style
Grooviness
You’re not addicted to Glee, right?
You can quit anytime, but why should
you? There’s nothing to be ashamed of,
just because you rush to your sofa every
Tuesday night to watch angst-ridden
teenagers belt out show tunes.
Since you’re so secure in your Gleek-
dom, check out Don’t Stop Believin’; the
production is a benefi t concert for Rose
Children’s Theater. Rather than thirteen
kids, you get 37, all singing their hearts
out. The day I stopped by rehearsal,
every young soul between the ages of 9
and 18 was totes on. My reactions ranged
from “Awww!” to “Wow!” as I witnessed
exuberance being honed into skill.
Evynne Hollens, herself an adorable
cross between Mr. Schuester and Miss
Pillsbury, directs the kids with under-
standing and respect. She’ll interrupt the
pulsating bundle of youth to demand per-
fect articulation and tonal accuracy, fol-
lowing her clipped command with, “Cool?
Now you’re really rockin’ out!”
“I love doing this,” Hollens says of her
third consecutive year directing a Glee-
style review. “It’s important to highlight
the talents of these kids.”
They will be rocking your favorites:
“Bad Romance,” “Singin’ in the Rain” (yep,
there will be water), “Bust a Move” and,
natch, “Don’t Stop Believin’.” Gleek out.
Glee: Don’t Stop Believin’ plays Friday,
June 3, at 8pm and Sunday, June 5, at
2pm at the Wildish Theater; for tickets and
info, visit www.thertc.com — Anna Grace
Salmon is Everything plays at the University Theatre through June 4; for info and tickets, visit pages.uoregon.edu/theatre or call 346-4191.
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EUGENE WEEKLY JUNE 2, 2011
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