Dog Act: The apocalypse will not be televised, but we will sell tickets to it

Ariel Leaf and Joe Wiener (Photo by Kari Elizabeth Godfrey).

The end of the world is on everyone’s minds. Sure, it has been hanging out in the back of conscious thought for as long as humans first gained sentience and thought, “Hmm, this is nice. But it won’t last,” but the intensity of our end-of-the-world dreams has only gotten stronger.

Environmental disaster. Economic collapse. The still-lingering threat of nuclear destruction. It seems like we are a thin veneer of civilization away from becoming unwilling “Road Warrior” reenactors, fighting each other tooth and nail for the limited remaining resources.

Liz Duffy Adams’ Dog Act moves the apocalypse deep into the past. Now, the few survivors don’t even have gasoline to fight over. It’s just the remaining scattered trash of our society to pick over, and mutant rodents for dinner.

While the world is dark, that doesn’t mean there isn’t room for entertainment, humor, and heartfelt emotions. The same can be said of Adams’ play, and the current production from Fortune’s Fool Theatre at the Gremlin.

In it, hope comes not from some guy who founds some letters that needed to be delivered, but from traveling vaudevillians. These company wander up and down the landscape, providing entertainment for the scattered survivors, immune from some of the degradations around them by a code that protects performers from the scavengers and cannibals that dot the land.

Even with that, our company is in dire straits. They are down to two: Zetta, the proprietor and main performer; and her loyal Dog, a man who has abandoned most of the ways of humanity to be Zetta’s loyal friend.

Their goal is to get to the coast, which – somehow – will get them to China, a long fantasied-about land where the company has a standing invitation for a command performance. In their way are two pairs of folk: Mysterious fellow travelers Vera Similitude and Jo-Jo the Bald Faced Liar; and cannibal scavengers Coke and Bud.

Vera and Jo-Jo join up for Zetta and Dog, and Vera tells of a nearby community where learning is still valued. As they trudge their way there, they are pursued by Coke and Bud, who want the youthful Jo-Jo for an important ceremony, and an even more important post-ceremony meal. As quickly as you can say “Red Kangs are best,” they are all ensnared in the adventure.

The twists of the plot are fairly easy to see, but it’s the quality of the characters and performances that gives Dog Act its heft. Ariel Leaf and Joe Wiener are convincing as our main double act. Leaf brings both grit and naïve charm to Zetta, who faces each new setback with a bright determination to find a way to a better life. Wiener matches this as the loyal Dog, who isn’t as sure about what is to come, but will stay loyal to his companion to the end.

The balance of the cast also does solid work, with Nissa Nordland Morgan’s Jo-Jo – and her shouted, emotionless storytelling that manages to be funny and scary – a particular highlight.

Director Ben Layne keeps a firm hand on the proceedings, and Ursula K. Bowden and Corrina Knepper Troth do an exemplary job with the set and props. This is dominated by Zetta’s travelling wagon, which dominates the proceedings like an end-of-the-world Mother Courage.

Dog Act runs through Nov. 22 at Gremlin Theatre.

Freshwater Theatre's Immaculate Heart offers insight into negotiating Catholicism and sexuality

Image courtesy Freshwater Theatre

No matter how long its been since you have been to mass, called a parish home, or gone to confession, you never shake being a Roman Catholic.

I haven't been a church goer since 1987, but at a funeral last week, I felt myself going through the old motions, finding comfort in the familiar rhythm of the mass, even feeling that spiritual thrill that comes with the miracle of the host.

I also knew, deep inside, that the issues that drove from the church all those years ago -- matters of sexuality, priestly abuse, and the musty Medieval smell that populates much of the Catholic Church's politics -- make a return to Mother's embrace impossible.

That evening, I headed out to see Immaculate Heart, a world premiere at Freshwater Theatre that embraced all of the conflicting emotions I had felt throughout the days. Ruth Virkus' excellent new work brings these issues into play, as a woman's awakening to her long-hidden sexuality brings her into sharp conflict with the parish she has called home her entire life.

Clare is interested in living a quiet life, devoting herself to a part-time job with the parish, assisting the harried priest, Father Paul, in the nitty gritty details of the church: tidying up the sanctuary, making sure the seasonal banners are in good repair, and in general serving far beyond the demands of her job.

Outside of this, Clare's main interest comes in knitting and other needlework. It is during a class she is teaching on knitting that she meets Marina. Marina is brash, friendly, and takes an immediate shine to Clare. As their friendship deepens, Marina wonders if there is something more between them. She has been open about her past girlfriends, but Clare doesn't seem to have much of a history with dating.

It turns out that she has been on exactly one date in her life. Some more probing -- some gentle, some not -- shows us that Clare is asexual; she has never had those kinds of thoughts about another person.

Their friendship also creates conflict with Father Paul, especially after Marina visits the church (and the confessional!) to the priest's chagrin. As Clare is tossed into conflict between her longtime home and her newfound friend, she finds it increasingly difficult to negotiate a path that includes both.

While Immaculate Heart has serious issues at its core, this isn't some dour trip. There is a lot of heart and humor throughout, from the early moments of Clare and Father Paul negotiating the non-religious parts of the parish to the initially halting friendship between Clare and Marina.

That's aided by the performers, who provide plenty of humanity to each role. Noe Tallen (Marina) and Rachel Flynn (Clare) have an easy chemistry that builds a bond between the characters from the beginning. The same goes for Flynn and Scot Froelich as the priest.

Froelich may have the toughest job, as his character becomes the antagonist for both women by the end of the show. The script could have used a few more touches to deepen the reverend. There is a sense of the intense loneliness he feels as the spiritual head of the parish, but a stronger sense of the personal connection he feels for Clare would make his eventual turn all the more agonizing.

That issue aside, Immaculate Heart is an engrossing show that easily moves between matters of the heart and matters of the spirit. As with other Freshwater shows, it is being produced in rep with an associated piece. Eventually, Epiphany is a collection of works by local artists and storytellers about the lessons they've learned in adulthood. For showtimes and tickets, visit online.

Cabal: Deep secrets in plain sight

Photo by Dan Norman

Over the years, Walking Shadow Theatre Company has explored plenty of mental and physical spaces. For the latter, they've previously produced a pair of "plays with puzzles," 1926 Pleasant and Saboteur.  After a long gestation period, the company's latest, Cabal, has arrived.

Over the years, the concept behind these -- the audience teams together to solve puzzles and experience the story -- has become more familiar with the popularity of escape rooms, but Walking Shadow's distinct twist has always been more immersive. The secret? Adding an intriguing plot and characters we can care about.

In Cabal, the audience (limited to 10 people) take on the roles of initiates in a secret magical order. Being an initiate comes with great responsibilities, especially after an off-stage death sends the entire order into chaos, leaving the new crew to right the rocking ship.

In performance terms, that means we have some puzzles (designed by David Pisa) to solve. I won't go into specifics, as much of the experience is about working out fresh challenges on the spot. I will say that they all had enough layers to them to mean that the group had to work together to solve them, and that they all took some puzzling out and the occasional false step to solve. So like a Resident Evil game, without the constant threat of zombies munching on your shoulders.

While the puzzles are the main attraction, the story and characters really give Cabal its texture. As the secrets are uncovered, the play part of the show (created by John Heimbuch) delves into heavier themes, especially the concepts of sacrifice and forgiveness. (Again, specifics would give away too much of the plot.)

This is aided by the initial cast, with Jamie Case and Tara Borman offering a mixture of tight characters and the occasional gentle guidance if the team ever falters on the puzzle.

Most of all, Cabal is a singular experience, and a reminder of how flexible and unique live theater can be. The show is in an open run, but each performance can only have 10 cast members. For more information, visit online.