Review+of+The+Life+and+Times+of+Tulsa+Lovechild+(Delaney+Kolich)

Delaney Kolich THEA 2100H 10/02/10  The Life and Times of Tulsa Lovechild: A Road Trip Immediately upon entering the Cellar Theater, I was overwhelmed by the stage itself. Filled with vibrant colors and oversized phones and phone booths, not to mention a floor covered with clouds while a highway stretched out into the sky, the stage and set were mesmerizing. I tried to settle down and read the program I’d been handed, but after a few minutes of half-hearted page flipping, I gave in and allowed myself to simply stare at the stage and listen to the mix of classic rock, Johnny Cash-esque, road tunes that were playing. Really, most of the songs had no connection, or at least none readily apparent, to driving or traveling at all, nor were they anything like what I listen to while driving, but they instantly put me in mind of long hours behind the wheel. I think that simply sitting and adjusting to the set while listening to the music helped put me in a better frame of mind for seeing the play and understanding its story. I’d come to the theater with a small part of excitement, and larger parts resignation and obligation. I wasn’t sure what I expected from the ‘life and times’ of something, but, combined with my mental image of road tripping (exhausting, 18 hour, one-day drives from Atlanta to Michigan) it really didn’t sound too interesting. However, as I simply waited, I began to relax and allow myself to be taken in by the surreal, dream-like stage and comfortingly familiar songs. Unfortunately, my chill, accepting state of mind was shaken when the two cloud-people, literally covered from head to toe in body-suits made to look like swirling clouds, entered the stage and proceeded to lounge across various pieces of setting, slowly turning their blue and white painted faces to track the audience’s movements, before synchronically shifting to different parts of the stage. I was very creeped out by them. I also couldn’t decide what they were meant to mean or represent, or if all the actors in the play would be dressed similarly, or even if the play had really begun. Was the message that, if you aren’t proactive, you can become one with the scenery and fade into the background as the cloud people sprawled across the cloud-painted floor did? Or were they going to act as flies on the wall, seeing and reacting to all events? Or were they simply there so that we could become accustomed to their presence, so that they gradually faded into being simply another part of the set? Were they to become nothing more than additional props, waiting to be used? Although initially they seemed ominous and somewhat terrifying, I did eventually adapt to seeing the cloud people draped across steps or sprawled over the floor. My last thought about their purpose, that they would serve as additional props, proved to be somewhat correct; they drifted around the stage, doing any set alteration that had to happen with the lights up, and filled in for any small, non-speaking parts that were needed. As the play progressed to increasingly dizzying heights of absurdity and coincidence, I enjoyed seeing each new role they took on, from serving as the propulsion for Tulsa’s car to becoming G-men in suits and gunning down the villainous senator/evangelical preacher. All of the actors did a fantastic job. I thought that each one very successfully created and conveyed to the audience a specific voice, mood, and general identity for their characters. I particularly enjoyed the performances of Bob, the USSR-defector turned roadside motel owner/operator, and Sylvia, Tulsa’s loving, unconventional, wisdom-filled mother. However, each of the characters had their own accent and tone, and the stage was filled with the heavy Southern drawls of the more rural Clyde and Kelly Jo, the obnoxious, New Yorkish accent of Ed’s manager Sondra, Stockton’s rough, redneck bluster, and Bob’s wonderful Russian accent. I never had any problems hearing any of the actors, but they also never spoke too loudly for the small theater space. Also, despite their various accents, each actor spoke clearly enough that I didn’t have any trouble understanding the dialogue. One of my favorite things about the play as a whole was the use of images projected into the oversized, slightly misshapen rearview mirrors painted onto the set’s background. Even before the play began, the mirrors stood out because, lit by projectors, they glowed and naturally attracted the eye. Initially, they were used simply to display still images overlaid with text detailing the titles of each scene as it began. However, when Tulsa began driving, those still images were replaced by video of a road rolling out behind you, just as you would see when checking your rearview mirrors! It was a strange and slightly disorienting effect, creating a sense of forward movement for the audience that clashed with the actual stillness of the stage. Just the rolling video in and of itself was a very cool effect, but it was made even better. When Tulsa, who is just driving along, sees Ed run out in front of her car, she gasps and slams on the breaks, as anyone would. As an audience member, I anticipated this reaction and had already accepted that the car was no longer supposed to be moving. However, we were visually shown that the car had stopped by the video: when Tulsa slammed on the breaks, the road rolling across the mirrors came to an instant halt. Since I’d been feeling a sense of motion from watching the moving video, this abrupt cessation left me feeling as though I had also come to a sudden stop. It was a very effective way of drawing me as an audience member more into the action of the play. One of the few things I would have changed about the play dealt with Tulsa seeing and carrying on conversations with her mother. I wasn’t sure if she had always done so, or if Sylvia simply appeared to her because she was dead. If she’d never seen and heard her mother’s apparition before, why did Tulsa accept this as normal? Wouldn’t she have assumed that something (such as her mother’s death) had to have happened to cause such visions, and likely called her mother herself, if only to tell her about what she was seeing? I know that’s how I would have reacted in her place. And then, when Stockton suddenly starts appearing along with her mother in her visions: are we to assume that Stockton is also dead? I just would have liked slightly more explanation or clarification of that particular facet of Tulsa.