In a small Indiana town, someone has gone into a high school classroom over the weekend and spray-painted a swastika over pictures of queer people kissing. The school’s journalism teacher, Judith Benson (Colleen Clinton), is determined to investigate and to publish the story in the school’s newspaper, including the name of the culprit. In her opening monologue, she clearly articulates her convictions: Judith is committed to “exposing the truth” with a capital T, as she believes this is the remedy for every ailment in the world. To hear her talk about her student newspaper, you would think she was Woodward or Bernstein of The Washington Post investigating Watergate.
The time is 2015, a few months after the landmark Obergefell v. Hodges Supreme Court decision affirming same-sex couples’ right to marry. In Erik Gernand’s The Totality of All Things, the small conservative community of Lewiston (population 6405) is meant to stand in for America as a whole, back in a time when average folks holding different political opinions or religious views all got along. We catch a glimpse of this neighborly tolerance early on in the play when Judith joins others for the high school football game. She’s introducing her new teaching assistant, Ms. Carter (played by the excellent Logan Floyd), to some of her co-workers: math teacher Gregg (Joseph Dean Anderson), who is a devout Christian; and DeeAnn (DeAnna Lenhaert), another teacher who quips that Obama is “not really the President because he was born in Kenya.” Gernand sets up these characters like opposing pieces on a chessboard; as the play unfolds, he wants audiences to conclude that both sides are somewhat to blame for our current polarization.
Or maybe it’s really those damn liberals’ fault? In its effort to examine both sides of the ideological spectrum, The Totality of All Things makes a number of false equivalences, arguing that the most effective social cohesion comes from a “don’t ask, don’t tell” approach. Within minutes of discovering the swastika, the school principal (a talented Rik Walter) immediately points out that the queer images on the wall are “against school board policy,” implying that Judith (who is also the Principal’s ex-wife) started it. This thinking gets elaborated later while sharing a drink with DeeAnn, who reveals how upsetting it is to have this “whole gay marriage thing shoved down our throats” before making a comparison to her anti-abortion stance. The play never digs into the debate further than this, even though one would think someone would point out there is a significant difference between a law allowing two men or two women to marry versus one stripping reproductive rights and bodily autonomy from millions.
In addition to the issues stirred up by the swastika incident, The Totality of All Things also touches upon secularism and Christianity. Again, these are portrayed as opposites–as if no journalists or Leftists go to church, and every Christian is homophobic and pro-life. In one engaging scene, the play also touches upon sexual assault, questioning how we frame the event in our minds and how we weigh the harm in our search for justice. Gregg tells Ms. Carter about a former student athlete accused of rape who later committed suicide, convinced that his accuser lied. “He would never do that,” he tells her passionately. “She ruined his life!” When Ms. Carter asks what happened to the accuser, the victim, Gregg doesn’t know. It’s clear he’s never asked that question before—an illuminating fact for Ms. Carter as well as for the audience.
Student reporter Micah (Cody Jenison) is tasked with investigating the story, and Judith doesn’t seem to consider what kind of model she is setting when she consciously violates some ethical standards. Further, for all of her declarations of “ally-ship” to the LGBTQ community, she seems surprisingly indifferent to the potential danger she is causing to her reporter, whom she knows is secretly gay. For Judith, pursuing The Truth and setting The Historical record are more important than the lives of actual human beings in front of her.
The Totality of All Things ends in a climax that can be shocking when it occurs, but ultimately feels out of character. Part of this could be Shannon Patterson’s direction: while all of the actors imbue their characters with a relaxed and easy naturalism, the stakes of Gernand’s script feel muted. Where is the urgency? Are Micah or Judith ever truly in danger for pursuing this story? If so, show us (don’t tell us)—make us feel the pressure. Separate from the performance style is the play’s concluding structure. In the play’s final scene, Judith and the Principal are at the school football game. As they summarize what happened to all of the characters in the aftermath, I was surprised that nobody suffered any significant consequences. No regrets, no lasting injuries, no outrage, no real change. For me, this undercuts the stakes of the play as a whole. What, then, was all of this risk for?
There is earnestness to this production that mirrors the principles of Judith. This creative team believes in the transformative power of art, and that if an audience can sit together in a theater to listen to “both sides” debate, that we will emerge with newfound tolerance and understanding for our fellow citizens. Maybe this will be true for some, but my experience is that The Totality of All Things will instead confirm one’s biases.
Leave a Reply