The Daughter (of Indra, Hindu god of war and thunderstorms) decides to check out The Humanity Thing, and rides a cloud down to earth -- not to India, as one might expect, but to a circa 1900 industrialized northern Europe, where the air is nasty (pollution, right?) in comparison with Heaven, or the Himalayas, or wherever she came from. She takes on human form as an attractive young woman named Agnes. (Symbolic, maybe? The god-taking-human-form thing, right? Any Christians out there? Agnus Dei? … Never mind.) People recognize her as The Daughter of Indra, demonstrating a great depth of knowledge about world religions in circa 1900 northern Europe. (I don’t think anyone in my neighborhood has even heard of Indra — I had to look him up on Wikipedia — let alone would recognize a family resemblance.) She meets various people — military, blue-collar, professionals, performers — none of whom are happy with their career paths. She marries a lawyer, and they can afford a maid but not central heat or an air-purifier. She bears a child, has an affair or two, and, living among all these humans, gradually gets more and more depressed. It’s the opposite of a contact high. She finally goes back to Heaven — or the Himalayas — through a door that, remarkably, anticipates both Kafka and "Being Human", the TV series.
I am NOT making this up. Loopy and parenthetical as the storyline is, "A Dream Play" completely deserves its status as a classic.
One more thing! The Daughter of Indra, the goddess, experiences her life-on-this-mortal-plane as if it were what mortals call … a dream. The author, August Strindberg, described "A Dream Play" in his preface:
"[It] imitate[s] the disjointed yet seemingly logical shape of a dream. Everything can happen, everything is possible and probable….
The characters split, double, multiply, evaporate, condense, dissolve and merge. But one consciousness rules them all: the dreamer’s; for [her] there are no secrets, no inconsistencies, no scruples and no laws … and because a dream is usually painful rather than pleasant, a tone of melancholy and compassion for all living creatures permeates the rambling narrative."
Strindberg wrote "A Dream Play" in 1901, after a nervous breakdown in which he believed that he was being tortured by feminist witches. (He had always thought of himself as a martyr, persecuted by women in general and by his wives in particular.) His mother-in-law cared for him in that illness, and afterward, remarkably, Strindberg admitted that the problems in his personal relationships had largely been his fault. “Melancholy and compassion,” indeed!
The Onomatopoeia Theatre Company strives valiantly with this classic of the early modern theater, and the ten 20-somethings of the cast take on thirty or forty characters. Unsupported by a plot, the young actors lack the confidence and gravitas to bring the "rambling narrative" and elevated language fully to life. The cast does have some excellent moments after the intermission, notably a catfight between the personifications of theology and science, which quickly expands to include law and philosophy. J. Michael Evans is perhaps first among equals, and does very well with The Poet’s keynote speech about conflict with his parents over a choice of vocation.
Set designer Zach Serafin has created several beautiful, abstract pieces to evoke an appropriately dreamlike setting. Lighting designer Brian Henderson has created a lovely final effect, but I wish that he had aimed more of his few lighting instruments at the actors than at the set.
In spite of its flaws, theatergoers who are interested in "A Dream Play" will learn much from this Onomatopoeia production.
Performances of "A Dream Play" continue through November 17th. For more information, check out our event listing here: https://stagebuddy.com/listingdetail.php?lid=15976
