"English" explores language and communication

Photo by Liz Lauren

My memories of studying a foreign language mainly come down to struggling with dour German novels and trying to describe seeing Motorhead, in French.

As a middle class American, a second language was more about ticking a box for college than a necessity. For the characters in English, Sanaz Toossi's Pulitzer-Prize-winning play, it means so much more. Learning English could open the door to becoming a doctor, getting a green card, or moving to Canada to be near their granddaughter. 

In this heartfelt and touching production, a co-production between the Guthrie and Chicago's Goodman Theatre, we only spend about 90 minutes with the quintet of characters, but they live in the memory long after the final curtain.

English takes place in Iran in 2009. Four students have gathered in an English-immersion classroom to prepare for a language proficiency test. To foster their emerging skills, instructor Marjan has a strict "English only" rule. The moments the characters swap between their second language and Farsi are represented by shifts in accent -- heavy for when they attempt English, straightforward when they use their native tongue.

As the months unfold, relationships are built and conflicts arise, especially between Marjan and strong-willed Elham, who sees learning English as a necessary evil to getting into an Australian university. Necessary evil may not be strong enough. Elham is in a war with the English language, upset that it has been foisted as a barrier to her plans, and reluctant to give up her own culture and tongue. 

English is at turns funny and insightful, with the cast -- who all have transferred from the Goodman run earlier this year -- showcasing considerable chemistry. Toossi's script also has plenty of subtle grace notes, which aids in making the characters fully realized. It also helps to survive a late-show twist that felt out of place within the rest of the action.

English runs through Aug. 18 at the Guthrie Theater.

Little Shop offers ghoulish fun at the Guthrie

Photo by Dan Norman

It's saying something (and I think that something is good) that the most disturbing parts for a modern audience when faced with 1980s darkly comic musical Little Shop of Horrors is that shop assistant Audrey is in a clearly abusive relationship, complete with jokes about bandages and trips to the hospital.

Mind you, her abuser meets a grisly end. Then again, so does everyone in the show, apart from sentient killer plant, Audrey II, and -- if the finale is to be believed -- all of Cleveland. 

I'm getting ahead of myself (and, um, spoiler warning?). Little Shop of Horrors, now running in a delightful production at the Guthrie, takes its cues from the 1960 Roger Corman film (a weekend well spent by all involved), and was developed into an Off Broadway musical by Howard Ashman and Alan Menken in the mid 1980s.

We follow sad sack florist Seymour, who works in a failing shop owned by Mr. Mushnik, in the heart of Skid Row. Seymour is obsessed with plants, and during a total eclipse he found an unusual plant that defies classification. The plant -- dubbed Audrey II in honor of the shop assistant he pines for -- is sickly, until Seymour discovers that it likes to feed on human blood.

As this is a horror story, Seymour doesn't run screaming. Instead, he continues to feed it. The plant's need for more food, and Seymour's desire to free Audrey from her evil dentist boyfriend, Orin, moves us up the food chain, eventually leading to... yes, you know, Cleveland.

The Guthrie production has multiple layers of nostalgia. There is that for the original 1960s film and setting, brought to life by scenic designer Lex Liang and costume designer Sully Ratke. That layer is also hardwired into the show, with the Menken's music evoking the rock n roll and soul of the early 1960s at every turn.

There is also a more subtle nostalgia for the Off Broadway musicals of this ilk. Produced at a time when Broadway shows were more known for gaudy excess than dark comedy, Little Shop of Horrors is part of a whole slew of shows with an edge you wouldn't have found in the bigger theaters. That has shifted over the years -- in part due to the success of shows like this, along with society's general embrace of irony -- to where that edge is pretty much smoothed over.

Not that it can't be entertaining, and this production -- solidly directed by Marcia Milgrom Dodge -- certainly is. The company is excellent throughout, from Will Roland's lovesick Seymour to China Brickey's conflicted Audrey to Robert Dorfman's crusty Mr. Mushnik. 

Two performances stand out. As Orin, David Darrow channels James Dean by way of Dennis Hopper's character in Blue Velvet. Funny and scary at the same time, it will put the fear of the dentist back into your soul. (Darrow is also excellent in a variety of other roles, including an Andy-Warhol-like early visitor to see Audrey II).

Multiple performers bring Audrey II to life, with T. Mychael Rambo providing the booming, enticing voice of the killer plant, giving delightful weight to his proclamations of "feed me!" and "suppertime!"

Little Shop of Horrors runs through Aug. 18 at the Guthrie Theater.