Confessions - Delightful DYI @ a BYOV
It’s no secret; the young cast of Confessions: Three Monologues is extremely talented.
I must confess I was pleasantly surprised by the sweet success of this indie amalgamation; it was a treat for the senses. A hodgepodge of three short solo performances, live music and multimedia crammed into a cute coffee house off the trodden Fringe path, this show embraces the very essence of DIY morals. The theme that merged these mix-matched monologues was news media; each can be described as “personal, human stories related to news reports…” But the true through-line was the team’s commitment to excellent theatre - they brought their own venue, even penned their own performance (in one case) and then threw down a raised two-by-four as a stage and put on an impressive act.
Audiences will be enticed by the focused ferocity of these young actors (and the aroma of all things delicious at The Agro Café). In the aptly named Letter From a Soldier: My Name is Aslam, Evan Frayne is an American soldier in Iraq narrating a letter home to his girlfriend. He shares his experience trying to “shoot people before they shoot us” with an accent vaguely reminiscent of The Godfather. Though he intends not to get to know any of the "sea of moustaches, towel heads or camel jockeys,” an unexpected friendship ensues. Frayne gets his 15 minutes of fame in this short but well-developed new work. He deserves to be saluted for delivering a solid performance of a story that embraces the human connection while breaking your hear.
Hats off too (and garments as well) to performer Alicia Novak, who wrote and performed a monologue about a web-cam stripper who begins to explore her identity. She uses the metaphor of balancing on a tightrope to frame the piece. It’s a creatively courageous artistic achievement. While her capacity as a writer comes through, the transitions between settings within it aren’t always as clear (I found myself two seconds behind sometimes). But I’d visit this site again for further developments!
Marissa Smith is the showstopper here. The Susan Smith Tapes stems from a factual, and heart-stopping, story of a mother who murdered her two young boys, making worldwide headlines in 1994. It helps to know the background of how Smith zoomed zoomed her Mazda into a lake, kids in tow, and tried to blame it on a fictional carjacking black man. After tearfully pleading on TV for her sons’ safe return, she eventually ‘fessed up to her crime and was sentenced to life in prison.
Smith captures a creepy chronicle of the convict’s perspective by filming herself, in front of us, from her prison cell, sharing her story. Because she’s scared of history’s opinion, she decides “I may as well get my say.” In series of addresses to the camera, she attempts to sweet talk Oprah, Jerry Springer and Barbara Walters, intending to send in the tapes and get her side of the story heard. A magical manipulator, Smith as Smith charms us with her “sensibilities”, her smile and her deceptively simple performance. Playing a seductive victim, "it just came over me, the death pull", she argues that she was a model mother and that if we saw things her way, we’d agree that “Susan Smith done horrible right”. The terrifying thing is, we almost do. (We would have more so if it weren’t for the repetitive sound affects of water, reminiscent of a flushing toilet but intended to replicate the sounds of Susan’s memory.)
The pleasant sound of a live musician onstage playing pre-show and throughout makes this an entertaining event from the moment you walk in the door. Watch this ambitious cast of youngsters under the direction of Josue Laboucane and you won’t be disappointed. Whether they communicate through a camera, a computer, a letter, or even a guitar, the message comes across in Confessions; these guys have it going on!
“Letter From a Soldier: My Name is Aslam” written by: Deborah Voctoroff; “Tight Rope” by: Alicia Novak; “The Susan Smith Tapes” by: RM Vaughn
Directer: Josue Laboucane
Producer: Marissa Smith
Performers: Marissa Smith, Evan Frayne, Alicia Novak
Stage Manager/Lighting Designer: Katherine Gavin Somers
Musicians: The Hemlocks
For more information and to confess your opinions go here.