Acting Up

Cilicia A. Yakhlef

DYNAMIC LOVE
@
"STOP KISS"

Phoenix Theatre
1124 Santa Fe Drive
303-860-9360

Love doesn't always approach with the force of an oncoming freight train. It doesn't always follow some predictable track so you can tell where it's coming from or where it's leading. Sometimes love sneaks up on you in subtle gestures, barely perceptible rubs against the limbs of the conscious mind-- like quiet overtures from a shy, affectionate kitten. Such is the story of Callie and Sara, two young girls who knit an unlikely friendship and wind up wearing the burdensome chains forged by the intolerance of others.

Like two lines plotted on an intersecting course, Callie and Sara couldn't seem more divergent in their beginnings. Callie is a savvy New Yorker, acclimated to ceaseless traffic, muggings and noisy neighbors. She's learned not to make waves. Sarah is fresh off the plane from a Quaker school in St. Louis and is thrilled about her new job teaching in a Bronx high school. Callie "can't relate to animals and trees ... they snub [her]." Sara hates jazz and says her family is a cult.

What brings these two together is Sara's need for someone to watch her cat, Caesar. Like so many unspoken nuances, Caesar drifts through the dialogue invisible, always lingering just near the periphery, never to be seen on stage. The cat is an apt metaphor for the developing relationship between Callie and Sara.

Callie lives in an apartment left to her by her boyfriend in lieu of her sister-- whom he ran away with. Sarah is estranged from a man who wasn't right for her. Callie, captivatingly nervous, won't complain to her upstairs neighbor about his weekly Riverdance class. Sara, one of those girls who "knew the right answer in school, but would never raise her hand," is spreading her wings and learning to assert herself in ways she never had before.

The two divergent outlooks find an odd balance as Callie and Sara begin to mentor and advise, chastise and harmonize. They endure arguments and awkward moments, doubts and hesitations, as they sculpt an emerging relationship that reveals there is something more between them than enduring friendship. In the wake of the women's acceptance however, disaster strikes and their lives are changed forever.

In gruesome gay-bashing fashion, a loathsome redneck assaults them in the park, beating Sara into a coma on the occasion of their very first kiss. Hilary Blair (Callie) gives a riveting performance as she recounts the event, ending on the ironic image of the assailant limping away because he had smashed Sara's head against is leg "so hard, so many times that he hurt his knee."

One of the primary functions of art is to reflect the full spectrum of human experience from agony to victory. Playwright Diana Son manages to show us both extremes and everything in between with remarkably subtle brush strokes that skillfully extrapolate the multiple dimensions which create the characters of Callie and Sarah.

Son's plot is non-linear, yet as perfectly scripted as her characters. Like the Ouija ball that drifts between yes and no throughout the play, no action or bit of exposition is definitive. Likely this is exactly as the playwright intended, for it is in attempting to define each other that we cross the line into generalization and prejudice. "Stop Kiss" is a subtle exploration of the gray area in which healthy people live and upon which extremists wage war. And it is the proliferation of subtleties which works best in this play to create an unforgettably realistic, poignant and unique love story.

The cast, for their part, grace the work with exceptional performances. Blair and Maura Barclay Gingerich (Sara) create indelible characters who are both real and ethereal, constructing something akin to a new American archetype. Gwen Harris commands the stage as Detective Cole, the character set in motion to reveal the story of Callie and Sara. Darrell Miller, Patty Mintz Figel and Tim Salmans round out the supporting cast, providing more than ample talent as conduits for this most artful and unique production.

Stage manager Jim Kaiser teams with director Billie McBride and the rest of the crew at the Phoenix to create an innovative, highly effective stage which is so sublimely manipulated it makes top dollar sets like those for "Art" and "Cats" seem sophomoric, both in intention and execution. Sound effects are perfect, creating subliminal environments, which complement the action and set the mood. Like every other facet of this gem of a play, direction is outstanding.

If the mark of good theater is that it leaves the audience changed in some way, then this is assuredly good theater. Superior theater, however, creates a new paradigm, and the piece, along with all those involved with it or viewing it, takes on its own life. Let's call it dynamic art. Generalizations aside then, "Stop Kiss" could best be defined as a fine piece of dynamic art. Treat yourself to a ticket. A