Tin Church
Written & Directed by Robyne Parrish
Chain Theatre at 312 West 36th Street, NYC
October 23rd - November 23rd
Muhammad Ali is famous for saying, “If you even dream of beating me, you’d better wake up and apologize.”
What’s real? What’s memory? What’s a dream?
We’ve all woken from dreams and been unsure if what we remember actually happened or if it was just a dream. In dreams, we’re able to do the impossible including going back to see people we’ve lost. When I lost my mother 10 years ago, I had a series of dreams where she would appear. In the last, she called and when I got to the phone she said, “You’re busy. I’ll let you go.” “No,” I responded. “You’ve died. I don’t know when I’ll hear from you again.”
This is the world of Tin Church. Mary is the daughter who moved away. She’s escaped her southern upbringing and lives away from the day-to-day drama in New York City. But she is a dutiful daughter who returns when needed – which is usually when someone is dead or dying. And, she returns in dreams. As Mary, Marguerite Stimpson’s performance is riveting. One foot in the present, one in the past with simultaneously both in a dreamworld. She checks in with her sister, Sue “Are you mad at me?” because she was told by a dream-Sue “we’re not speaking in the waking world”.
While there are long stretches of monologues, where the show shines is when the family is all together. Marguerite is joined by Christina Perry and Lilly Tobin to flesh out the three sisters. Whether they’re in dreams or reality, the women are electric when they’re together. Perry’s tight jawed Linda and Tobin’s quirky Sue can be found on the porch drinking sweet tea and avoiding whatever might be bothering them. The balance and rhythm found in their scenes is a credit to the actors and writer/director Robyne Parrish alike.
My mind couldn’t help conjuring the Magrath Sisters from Beth Henley’s Crimes of the Heart. Three Southern sisters, a nosey cousin and traumatic past involving their parents. But anyone who bakes knows that just because you have the same ingredients, it doesn’t mean you’re making the same cake. We never hear from Mama in Henley’s play, but here mother, Mildred has a voice. Virginia Wall Gruenert as the mother of three daughters walks the fine line of fragility and steely reserve. Whether speaking with her own mother who is on the verge of death, or speaking in a dream of her own or her daughter’s, Mildred knows there was a point where she came to a crossroads in her life. “But I don’t remember the choice. I remember the choosing but not the choice. And how is that possible?”
This production is unique - like the tiny tin church from grandma’s closet. It sparks your imagination and holds on to you. From the page to design to performance, the elements have come together to make something magical . . . even if it’s only a dream.
Scenic Design: Marie Lasterl; Sound Design: Farid Vargas; Lighting Design: Juliette Louste; Original Music: Adia Victoria
Click HERE for tickets.
Review by Nicole Jesson.
Published by Theatre Beyond Broadway on October 27th, 2024. All rights reserved.