Virginia Wall Gruenert as Alida and Erika Cuenca as Beth in Jennifer Haley's Breadcrumbs Credit: Heather Mull
From
childhood, do you remember the story of Hansel and Gretel? How two siblings venture into the woods
leaving behind a trail of bread crumbs to guide them back home?
Ah fortune! Imagine the anxiety, the distress, they
must feel when forest birds eat their roadmap back to the safety of hearth and
home.
In the play Breadcrumbs, actress Virginia Wall
Gruenert convincingly suggests some of the same horror the siblings must have
felt lost in the darkness of the woods. As the aging writer, Alida, she’s
somewhat asea, adrift by the onset of dementia.
As the play opens, we see her in an almost somnambulant
state, following along on a darkened stage past a string of tall black trees
whose images appear on a line of delicate material that shivers in the breeze.
With each step she pulls off a post it note that holds one word. After
repeating it to herself, she casually lets it fall to the floor.
As a writer, words are very important to her and her
ever growing loss of memory makes it difficult for her to continue writing what
is probably going to be her last work. If you’ve ever forgotten a word in the
middle of a conversation, you know what she’s feeling, but on a much larger
scale. The post-it-notes symbolize her need to recall certain words that momentarily
seem to have skipped her mind, much like messages tacked on a board at home
that are reminders of what to pick up at the grocer’s.
By happenstance, Beth (Erika Cuenca), the practitioner
who gives her the diagnosis she so dreads, is soon fascinated by her and
volunteers to help her continue to write her book. One of the attendant traits
associated with dementia is paranoia, something the cantankerous-to begin-with
Alida is showing by her distrust of Beth’s intentions. “Is she here to steal my
book?” She considers the possibility
Playwright Jennifer Haley eschews a linear story here
as her narrative meanders into alternate stories, then back again to the main
one. The audience follows back in time to Alida’s childhood where we pick up
clues to her backstory as Cuenca becomes her mother and Gruenert the child. The
roles change without warning or clear demarcation, but the narrative is still
relatively easy to follow.
In one of these flashbacks, we hear of the mansion of
the man her mother hopes to marry, where untoward things are remembered as
having gone on in the basement. Just like the witch’s house in Hansel and
Gretel, the mansion seems a respite from the terror of the woods, but it's
really the basis of nefarious intent and, in this case, Alida’s childhood
trauma.
After seeing Gruenert in several plays through the
years, I expected great theater artistry from her and boy does she deliver. As
Alida, she manages to convey her fears of memory loss and not being able to
finish her book, her distrust of Beth’s intentions, her awareness of her
inability to function sufficiently on her own, her neediness and her complex,
almost symbiotic relationship with Beth.
Erika Cuenca and Virginia Wall Gruenert in Jennifer Haley's Breadcrumbs Credit: Heather Mull
As Alida, she dresses drably in a neutral pair of
pants and just as colorless top. This is in contrast to Beth's vibrant, flowing
and colorful ensemble which she wears with the grace and poise of a seasoned
ballerina. While Alida’s gait is heavy and plodding, Beth’s is lithe and
graceful. While the two women are very dissimilar, their relationship is very visually
and dramatically complimentary.
As Beth’s employer, Alida holds the upper hand. The
fact that Beth has nowhere else to go and is also homeless gives Alida another advantage.
This dynamic changes during the scenes where Gruenert is a child and Cuenca is
the mother. Both actresses carry off the character transformations vibrantly
and convincingly.
One thing I especially like about the play is that it’s
not bogged down showing the traits of the dementia afflicted person and its effect
on family and friends. Rather Haley carefully constructs an overall ambient mood
whereby the viewer gets to actually experience what it feels like to have
dementia, while, at the same time, sketches out additional narratives that
enrich the play and even lighten up the experience of the drama. Instead of sad
and melancholy, we get what to me seemed a lyrical and inspired uplift.
After seeing the play, I immediately posted to my
Facebook page that the tech crew is creatively involved in the production and that
they are on a par with the actors. The musical background, for instance, is
mesmerizingly appropriate and the lighting helps suggest mood, theme and change
of scene with exquisite finesse.
Don't be offput by the minimal set. I often find them propellants for my imagination and much appreciate them, which is not to say that elaborate stage crafting and design doesn't enthrall me as well.
As I watched the play, I sensed several creative, even
inventive elements introduced into the proceedings that I felt were due to the
work and insight of director Ingrid Sonnichsen. Unfortunately, I did not have a
note pad or even post-it-note with me to jot down some of my acumens. If you’re
especially attentive, I expect you’ll notice them yourself.
Leaving the theater after experiencing a subject
matter that normally would have depressed me terribly, I left in a relaxed and
tranquil set of feelings. I attribute this to what Aristotle once described as dramatic
catharsis. While the play is not a tragedy in the classical sense, it did seem
to have the same effect, at least on me.
While not quite sure if this effect has a universal
application, I’d be interested in what others might experience. If you go and
want to jot me a line, I’d be most interested. You can reach me at owlscribe@yahoo.com.
Breadcrumbs is at the Carnegie Stage, 25 W. Main St. in Carnegie through April 18. For tickets, go
to carnegiestage.com.
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