Theater review: Rabbit

by Gina Robertson of John Garcia's The Column

On the second floor of a small Denton café called The Hydrant is an English pub populated by a group of friends who have come together to celebrate Bella's 29th birthday. You're invited. Don't miss it. Nina Raine's Rabbit, presented by Sundown Collaborative Theatre, is a slice-of-life snapshot of modern day young men and women talking about stuff under the influence of alcohol.

They are all equally influenced by their own crippling emotional issues, which means the conversation leaps around from silly (are the angels turning clockwise or anti-clockwise?) to pornographic (his thing was shaped like a what??) to intellectual (how are memories stored in the brain?) to deeply depressing (Daddy's dying and I never lived up to his expectations). Some very interesting questions are raised about the nature of men, women, feminism, dating, marriage, sex, and parental role models. You will leave with something to think about, but you will most likely not leave feeling particularly cheerful.

This story invites us to examine the unanswered questions and unresolved issues we all have in our lives. Ultimately, is it any more important (or possible) to know which way the angels are turning than to know that you are in the right career, dating the right person, or living up to your parents' expectations?

As always, Sundown Collaborative Theatre accomplishes the goals of this play with performance alone. Flashbacks are done with simple changes in lighting in which Bella smoothly moves from the party at the bar to a private moment alone with her dad. With thoughtful directing, Tiffany Hillian develops and maintains a good pace with smooth transitions in dialogue and stage movement that seems natural and keeps the setting from getting stale.

All of the actors demonstrate remarkable mastery of the British accent. More than just the accent, they actually "become" English in their mannerisms and body language. It's very subtle, but this director and cast do understand that playing a Brit involves much more than just nailing the accent.

Tashina Richardson is Bella. She effectively conveys all that is going on beneath the surface of this character, even when it is contradicted by what she's saying. The dynamic between Bella and her father is quite interesting. Richardson presents a jumble of conflicting attitudes and feelings toward him: resentment, admiration, contempt, fear, anger, and a form of love that one only feels for a parent, which is something similar to self-love. Her grief in his passing is for the loss of the one person in the world who ever could love her as much as she loves herself. "You love me because I'm a part of you," she tells him, but manages to convey that she loves him for the same reason.

Bella's father is played by David Thomas, who has only a few scenes with brief dialogue in which to develop this complex character. He is everything that Bella believes he is and more, as Bella struggles to understand that he is separate from her and that she must let him go. It is a credit to Thomas' talent that this tragic character, dying of a brain tumor and dealing with a difficult daughter, is the only person in this story who isn't depressing! He is courageous, patient, and resourceful. Most of all, he stands out among the characters because he is comfortable with who he is.

Bella's friends are typical middle-class English single professionals with the usual array of problems and attitudes. Tom, adorably played by Zaire Adams, is a former lover of Bella's whom she has treated badly. He is quiet and unassuming amongst this rowdy crowd, and his insights are most revealing, both in terms of what's happening between the other characters and of the broader issues raised about life in general. He effectively portrays the slightly uncomfortable outsider watching a comedy drama unfold that only marginally affects him.

Assistant director Sean Ball plays Richard, an old boyfriend of Bella's, who covers up his insecurities with harsh, biting observations about the others. He is as self-absorbed as Bella but without her tendency toward escapism. What produces despair in her comes out as anger in him, which is probably an accurate reflection of gender roles in society today.

Rhonda Durant is the spirited, boisterous Sandy. Her lively performance as the party girl provides a much-needed lift to balance out the dark, heavy issues they will discuss. She has issues of her own, of course, and she and Richard demonstrate that they have a long history of pushing each other's buttons. Both she and Tashina Richardson display a remarkable talent for natural-sounding laughter, something that looks easy when done well but can be dreadfully awkward otherwise.

Finally, Bella's friend Emily is played by Danielle Trudeau. She's sincere where the others are posturing, kind where the others are cruel, and generous where the others are selfishly grasping. Like Tom, she has a calm demeanor that contrasts nicely with the three overbearing personalities in the room. Trudeau gives form to this character by revealing how much she cares for Bella and enjoys her friendship, as well as how out of her element she feels among Bella's other friends. She senses them all competing for a position in this social group but isn't sure where she fits in. In the end, she supplies unconditional support and friendship when it is her shoulder that Bella cries on.

Conversation flows very naturally, with characters interrupting and talking over one another the way people do when they're drinking. The alcohol almost becomes a seventh character in itself, and its presence is felt more strongly as the night progresses.

Hillian refers to this show in her director's notes as "primarily a comedy," and there are plenty of laughs, but the second act is far too emotional and dark to leave the audience with the impression that they have just seen a comedy. Nevertheless, Bella's birthday party is worth attending, for how often do we here in Texas get the chance to spend an evening partying with drunk, neurotic British people?