What becomes a legend most?
That was one of advertising’s most famous lines from the mid-Twentieth Century. The campaign for Blackglama mink used wonderful Richard Avedon photos of celebrities who – mostly – qualified as legends. All of them, of course were in the dark, lush and hard-to-photograph fur. Fur coats were probably a given in the world from whence comes Feast, the first offering of the season from Tesseract Theatre.
There probably are people who clearly recall studying Beowulf in high school, but for most, it’s only a vague memory – for me, it gets mixed up with hearing Chaucer in Middle English from the very excellent Carolyn Allers, who was tasked with my particular class. The epic poem is considered pretty much the beginning of English literature, although the roots of the story are probably Scandinavian. Those Viking types were always big on sagas, of course. For us, Beowulf is the starting point for Megan Gogerty’s play Feast, which was originally intended to be part of a group of new plays for Tesseract. Not a year for plans to go smoothly, of course.
In the long, long poem named for its hero, Beowulf is the good guy, going off to slay monsters. But as with almost every story, there’s more to it. Grendel, the magical creature Beowulf first goes after, is described in some versions as a descendant of Cain. After slaying Grendel, Grendel’s mother, The Woman With No Name, comes after Beowulf, as any mother would. That’s who we meet in Feast.
Donna Parrone is this mamma bear who’s lost her only cub. Oh, she looks like a human being, of course, explaining that she’s created this manifestation out of clay so we, her guests, can see her. There’s very much an air of magical realism, set in a medieval-ish banquet hall but taking place in the present. She tells the tale of what happened from her standpoint – those who never knew the story line will be fine – and when she howls, “They hung my son’s arm on the wall!” we’re quickly pulled into the narrative.
Feast, however, goes far beyond the family narrative. Why, she asks, is the only character without a name? (Sexist!) Just what is a king, anyway? Why did these people come in, kill trees, stack them up and make blocks in which they enter? It’s fascinating how these discussions and diversions end up referring as easily to modern events as to the fable from which the story began.
While the script may wander some, especially early on, it’s a tour de force performance from start to finish for the ever-reliable Perrone. Despite the grim nature of things, she snaps off funny lines as easily as she wails about the loss of her beloved child, stretching in both directions as easily as breathing.
Directed by Shane Signorino, with scenic and lighting design from Tesseract’s artistic director Taylor Gruenloh as well as Brittanie Gunn. They’ve managed the .ZACK’s often-ungainly space pretty well. The audience is asked to mask in the theater, and there are some seats available for those who prefer to socially distance.
Some performances are sold out, so make haste to see this interesting piece of work. Runs about 65 minutes without intermission.
Feast
through June 27
The Tesseract Theatre Company
.ZACK Theatre
3224 Locust St.