|
Getting your Trinity Audio player ready...
|
Despite the fact that it takes place nearly 2,500 miles away from the Bay Area, TheatreWorks Silicon Valley and Marin Theatre Company’s joint production of “Skeleton Crew” hits close to home.
Directed by Jade King Carroll, Dominique Morisseau’s searing, funny and heartfelt work takes us into the lives of four car-factory workers who are trying to keep their heads above water while the economic tide turns against them.
In 2008, Detroit, the “Motor City,” was hit with a massive wave of unemployment as car-parts manufacturers shut down their factories and auto-assembly plants experienced a series of layoffs. “Skeleton Crew” takes place at a plant that — if the rumors on the shop floor are true — is about to undergo massive layoffs.
This co-production, which first opened in the North Bay last month before moving down to Palo Alto, takes us through the weeks leading up to the layoff, where the stakes are high for everyone and tensions are mounting.
Through a series of scenes that take place in the breakroom over the course of about two months, we come to know intimately four workers at this plant: Faye (Margo Hall), a sharp-tongued, hard-smoking union rep who is approaching her 30th year with the plant; Dez (Christian Thompson), a troubled but ambitious young man who is saving up to start his own repair shop; Shanita (Tristan Cunningham), a highly-skilled worker who loves her job — and also desperately needs her benefits for maternity leave; and Reggie (Lance Gardner), a supervisor who rose up to his rank from the factory floor and now has to navigate the politics of looking out for his unit while meeting the business’ bottom line.
When the media talks about factory workers, it normally reduces their lives to statistics about unemployment or working conditions. This play could easily have been heavy-handed or melodramatic, with characters who felt like pedantic metaphors for the working class. What “Skeleton Crew” does so masterfully, however, is breathe life into these characters. Morisseau gives us the ability to not just sympathize with their theoretical plight, but also empathize with them as fully realized and complex people who are just trying to live their lives.
While a decade has passed since 2008, Morisseau’s play touches on the eerily pertinent themes of toxic masculinity, gun violence and workers’ rights. We hear the seeds of the conversations we’re having today about health care, benefits, and unions as we catch glimpses of a 2008 Obama “Hope” postcard on the inside of a locker or a campaign magnet on the fridge. The play is especially relevant here in the Bay Area, as we see people reduced to living in their cars, crowdfunding treatments that health insurance won’t cover and otherwise trying to ride the wave of imbalance in wages, employment and power, despite the improvements in the economy.
This production carries out Morisseau’s script beautifully, with a hyperrealism that is so palpable that you forget that you’re sitting in a theater watching a play.
The set, designed by Ed Haynes, is immersive, jutting out at an angle that feels as if it’s breaking the fourth wall and you’re actually in the breakroom. The detail in the design is flawless as well, from the rust on the side of the lockers to the probably spoiled food in the company fridge. If you look carefully, you can see the faded employment regulations on the wall in the hallway and the dust on the abandoned basketball in the corner of the room. The sound, designed by Karin Graybash, is also immersive, engulfing you in a symphony of mechanical noises from the moment you walk into the theater, exactly as you might hear if you walked into a real auto plant. And the harsh overhead fluorescent lighting, designed by Steven B. Mannshardt, only adds to the realism.
The small ensemble, comprising Hall, Thompson, Cunningham and Gardner, functions like a well-oiled machine. Each actor is a standout in their own right — from the way they perform silent bits of business to heartfelt monologues, each brings a touching, endearing humanity to their respective roles. And, more importantly, they function as a true ensemble, with a chemistry that drives this character-heavy piece. As Faye, Hall is weathered and wise, but such a fighter that you instantly fall in love with her. Thompson brings the fire as hotheaded Dez, but he expertly finds the vulnerability that drives Dez’s anger, making the audience both root against and for him as he comes close to tearing the fabric of the play apart. Cunningham also brings vulnerability to her portrayal of Shanita, but she shrouds hers in hope. Cunningham is a brilliant actor, finding nuance in monologues about dreams that could otherwise come off as plot devices. As Reggie, Gardner walks the fine line between authority and helplessness, man and child. Together under the direction of King Carroll, all four keep the play moving forward quickly, with laugh-out-loud quips followed by sobering moments of stark reality.
As audience members having lived through the 2008 recession, we watch this play with the horrible knowledge that, however bad things may seem for the workers now, things are about to get much, much worse. Yet, Morisseau defies us to find the bleakness in this story. There may be a darkness that runs through it but, through humor and humanity, she helps us find the light.
With grit, wit and a lot of heart, there is nothing bare-bones about this “Skeleton Crew.”
Freelance writer Kaila Prins can be emailed at kailaprins@gmail.com.
What: “Skeleton Crew.”
Where: Lucie Stern Theatre, 1305 Middlefield Road, Palo Alto.
When: Through April 1 (see online for specific showtimes).
Cost: $40-$100.
Info: Go to TheatreWorks Silicon Valley.



