In Water By The Spoonful, there are two worlds. One of the physical variety, and one of the viral. In Scene eight, Elliot and Yaz discover the world that Odessa has created for herself to live in. A world where she isn't a crack addict, where she can write haikus and not worry about how bad she wants to relapse. Orangutan is there waiting for Haikumom, but she instead meets her relatives.
This moment is pivotal for the relationship between Elliot and Yaz. Yaz learns of his addiction to pain pills after having four surgeries on his leg from Iraq. She learns how he tried to deal with the addiction alone, and begins to feel bad for herself.
This moment is also important because it's shortly after Elliot has begun pushing the correct buttons to make Odessa relapse. Orangutan sees Haikumom online, but it's not actually Haikumom. She won't see Haikumom after this, not for a long time. It's that last moment of daily routine before everything begins to change in each of the worlds. Chutes&ladders learns more about Orangutan and they begin to become a real life friendship instead of only online. This scene is the pivotal moment of change for everything.
Saturday, April 13, 2013
Detroit Response
Trying to figure out why this play could be called Detroit actually wasn't that hard of a stretch. When Frank talks about the neighborhood having its heyday nearly 30 years ago, it reminded me a lot of how the city of Detroit was at its high point in the 1950s. Since then, it has steadily declined (both the neighborhood and the city) so that things aren't as good as they once were.
In the city of Detroit, much of the economy was fueled by sports teams and vehicle factories. After the first interstate was built in the 1950s and '60s, much of the better off population moved to the suburbs of Detroit. This left the city itself to slowly decline and lose much of its luster.
The same thing happens to the neighborhood that Ben, Mary, Sharon and Kenny (Roger) live in. Frank tells Ben and Mary of what the neighborhood used to look like when he moved in. Kids went outside and played and built lemonade stands, everyone knew their neighbors and were friendly, and life just seemed like an episode of Leave it to Beaver. However, much like the city of Detroit, the neighborhood decline. Neighbors were less likely to acknowledge the people living in the house next to them. The thought of asking for a cup of sugar wasn't applicable in the more modern time. And people like Sharon and Kenny showed up in the area, causing what was already a delicate balance of self-sufficiency to burst into flames. Literally.
The name Detroit is given to this play because, like the deterioration of the city of Detroit, the characters' lives and neighborhood deteriorate until there's nothing left. Ben and Mary are having to live in a hotel. Frank comes to take his house back. And we don't even know what happened to Kenny and Sharon. It's all constantly falling apart.
In the city of Detroit, much of the economy was fueled by sports teams and vehicle factories. After the first interstate was built in the 1950s and '60s, much of the better off population moved to the suburbs of Detroit. This left the city itself to slowly decline and lose much of its luster.
The same thing happens to the neighborhood that Ben, Mary, Sharon and Kenny (Roger) live in. Frank tells Ben and Mary of what the neighborhood used to look like when he moved in. Kids went outside and played and built lemonade stands, everyone knew their neighbors and were friendly, and life just seemed like an episode of Leave it to Beaver. However, much like the city of Detroit, the neighborhood decline. Neighbors were less likely to acknowledge the people living in the house next to them. The thought of asking for a cup of sugar wasn't applicable in the more modern time. And people like Sharon and Kenny showed up in the area, causing what was already a delicate balance of self-sufficiency to burst into flames. Literally.
The name Detroit is given to this play because, like the deterioration of the city of Detroit, the characters' lives and neighborhood deteriorate until there's nothing left. Ben and Mary are having to live in a hotel. Frank comes to take his house back. And we don't even know what happened to Kenny and Sharon. It's all constantly falling apart.
Monday, April 8, 2013
Buried Child Response
With The Glass of Water and Noises Off!, it's very easy to tell that they are Well-Made Plays. Buried Child, however, throws readers for a loop. There's three acts--check--, there are things the audience sees that other characters don't know about--check--, but there isn't a distinct scene that encompasses the play and shows how it all relates together. Instead, as the entire play comes together, it becomes more and more confusing until the end when Tilden comes in holding the child, and it seems like everything has just blown up in pure confusion.
But everything that happens, though disturbing, could seem normal in some Norman Rockwell-meets-Rocky Horry world. The thing that catches our attention and shows us that the plot of this play is not so normal is Vince's girlfriend, Shelly. She acts as the audience on stage. When Vince and Shelly first arrive at the house, she says Vince should just leave because the man that is supposed to be his grandfather doesn't even recognize him. Later, when Vince comes back into the house drunk to oblivion as she's holding his uncle's wooden leg, she's basically done with life and just leaves.
Shelly seems to be the thing that stands out as different from this play. She gives us the perspective that we, as the audience, generally have. Such as "Why the hell is Tilden asking me/her to peel these carrots that apparently came out of a garden that doesn't exist?" And instead of what we would originally believe to be straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting, that vision, along with Shelly's is shattered as it becomes an image of infidelity, murder, and secrecy that is just plain creepy.
Is what we see what we get? I'm not quite sure. Is there a garden in the backyard or is it an empty pasture or a freaking torture chamber that we don't know about? It's all really frustrating, but it seems as though this play heavily relies on the ambiguity of it everything. The pretend garden, whether Ansel was a murdered basketball player or not, whether the farm was "flowing with milk and honey" as Dodge says. It's all left unsaid.
So I would say, no, this isn't a Well-Made Play. Everything is not as it seems because, well, we don't see a lot of it. And Norman Rockwell paintings will now haunt my dreams.
But everything that happens, though disturbing, could seem normal in some Norman Rockwell-meets-Rocky Horry world. The thing that catches our attention and shows us that the plot of this play is not so normal is Vince's girlfriend, Shelly. She acts as the audience on stage. When Vince and Shelly first arrive at the house, she says Vince should just leave because the man that is supposed to be his grandfather doesn't even recognize him. Later, when Vince comes back into the house drunk to oblivion as she's holding his uncle's wooden leg, she's basically done with life and just leaves.
Shelly seems to be the thing that stands out as different from this play. She gives us the perspective that we, as the audience, generally have. Such as "Why the hell is Tilden asking me/her to peel these carrots that apparently came out of a garden that doesn't exist?" And instead of what we would originally believe to be straight out of a Norman Rockwell painting, that vision, along with Shelly's is shattered as it becomes an image of infidelity, murder, and secrecy that is just plain creepy.
Is what we see what we get? I'm not quite sure. Is there a garden in the backyard or is it an empty pasture or a freaking torture chamber that we don't know about? It's all really frustrating, but it seems as though this play heavily relies on the ambiguity of it everything. The pretend garden, whether Ansel was a murdered basketball player or not, whether the farm was "flowing with milk and honey" as Dodge says. It's all left unsaid.
So I would say, no, this isn't a Well-Made Play. Everything is not as it seems because, well, we don't see a lot of it. And Norman Rockwell paintings will now haunt my dreams.
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