Once again, another entry by guest writer, Barbara Silor…
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This past Saturday, I decided – almost too last minute – to check out Theatre Downtown’s performance of Ray Bradbury’s play Fahrenheit 451. Had I delayed my decision a moment longer, I would have been without a seat, because it was a sold out show. If you didn’t already know, the play is an adaptation of Bradbury’s 1953 dystopian novel, typed up in only nine days using a rented typewriter in the basement of a UCLA library. From the packed loft at Fifth Avenue Antiques, I assumed that a good chunk of the audience must have been fans of the book (or perhaps even the 1966 film).
I admit, I had not read the book, so it took me a few minutes past the opening of the play to acclimate to the strange setting: a dismal time in the future when intellect and free thinking are deemed dangerous and books are burned in a vain attempt to maintain societal peace and political correctness. It had me thinking, “Could there be such a thing as being too politically correct?” and “Could the quest for total equality actually lead to something…dangerous?”
“Burn!”
In Bradbury’s upside down world, firemen aren’t the ones putting out fires. No. They’re the dark pyromaniacs who show up at your doorstep when the authorities discover that you’ve been hiding or reading books. They’re the ones who will round up your Bronte, Poe, and Dostoyevsky, light a match and burn them to a pile of ashes.
“Intellectual? That’s a swear word.”
Guy Montag, played by Chris Boucher, is the protagonist who perhaps doesn’t fully realize how miserable he is as a fireman until he stumbles upon the uninhibited and curious neighborhood teen, Clarisse McClellan, played by Christy Vest. Before you get excited, let me go ahead and tell you that no, this is not a Lolita story, so settle down. Instead, Montag is both startled and attracted by her inquisitive nature and for the first time, he begins to examine his own life, marriage and society with one big, fat, forbidden question: Why? Then the madness begins.
WARNING: Unexpected Feminist Rant Alert! During a post-play discussion at the Wine Loft, it was pointed out that this is yet another Eve-tempting-Adam-with-the-fruit-of-knowledge scenario. Darn us women, ruining the lives of poor, unsuspecting men. I mean, really? Aaaaand end of rant. We now return to your regularly scheduled blog.
“Nothing added up.”
For me, the highlight of the play was watching the antagonist, Captain Beatty, played by Bates Redwine. I’ve recently seen Redwine play a villain in BFT‘s The Musical Comedy Murders of 1940 so I was delighted to see him again. I watched, slack-jawed, as he delivered a lengthy and wordy ten minute monologue without fumbling. It was an intelligent and, at times, witty rant aimed at Montag and his suicidal wife, Mildred, played by Kesley Sherrer. I was amazed, not only by Redwine’s super-human ability to memorize so much script, but also by Sherrer’s ability to react so believably on stage.
My one qualm is that the seating arrangement is not ideal (especially if you’re stuck behind a big head). Though I love that they perform at the antique shop, the flat rows of chairs make it near impossible to get a solid view. Also, the music choices at the beginning and end of the play sort of puzzled me, because they didn’t quite fit. In the spirit of complete ridiculousness, they might as well have opened with this fire song and ended with this happy ditty.
I love that often songs, movies, or plays have a peculiar way of echoing something currently happening in your life (isn’t it ironic?), and this was one of those instances for me. While going through another healthy bout of self-questioning and examination, I’m thankful that there’s no one hunting me down to burn the literature that helps me to explore new thoughts and ask new questions.
Once again, Theatre Downtown has delivered yet another stimulating and entertaining play. If you missed it this past weekend, be sure to check it out Thursday, Jan. 27th (“Hobo Night” – pay what you can!) through Saturday, Jan. 29th.