The house manager at Ars Nova handed me the program, quickly bringing a smile to my face. Inside were black-and-white pictures of tonight’s two performers done in the style of an old-fashioned “Wanted” poster from the Wild West. It’s implied that the characters Xhloe Rice & Natasha Roland play in And Then the Rodeo Burned Down are on the run, suspects in an act of arson.
It’s an intentional design choice, as well as a subtly sly move. The clownish comedy these two engage in contains an outsider’s edge, a zeal for tackling serious themes using slapstick and humor. Rodeo aims to do much more than merely entertain.
At least since the plays of Samuel Beckett, the clown has taken on metaphysical dimensions in the theatre. These scruffy, scrappy figures possess an almost Sisyphean ability to endure hardship: they’re always able to keep a smile in place no matter how bad things get, no matter how hopeless their quirky lives may seem. Clowns experience countless pratfalls and pitfalls, and yet always get back up again–and in this their tragicomedic meanings become possible to perceive. When we watch Didi and Gogo exchange their boots over and over, waiting for the mysterious Godot to arrive, we laugh in bittersweet recognition–both because we know that Godot will never come, as well as how much our own lives are filled with pointless repetition. We identify with the clumsiness of Charlie Chaplin’s tramp, and relate to his tender heartache when he falls in love with the blind woman in City Lights. Clowns, frequently silent yet communicating eloquently through precise physical action, are living metaphors. They show us what fools we all are, so much of the time, and invite us to laugh at our shared plight. What’s the alternative–crying? Screaming?
The dynamic sorts of original performances that Xhloe & Natasha create are devised (they both author these shows, as well as star in them), and are distinctly in this theatrical clown tradition of physical theater. There’s certainly traces of Beckett in their work, as well as a dash of Bill Irwin, and a healthy dose of commedia dell´arte. What’s more, a vibrant streak of feminism and queerness runs through And Then the Rodeo Burned Down, creating a heady brew that feels completely their own, as if they are building upon clown traditions of the last century but moving boldly into our own. Xhloe & Natasha’s distinct form of theater is a refreshing alternative to their contemporaries, who often rely on technology and spectacle to keep their audiences stimulated. In their latest show, it´s largely just the two of them onstage for 90 minutes. And Then the Rodeo Burned Down is effortlessly riveting, and gives much to think about after the final bow.
Before this Off-Broadway premiere at Ars Nova, extended through July 10, Rodeo won a Fringe First Award in Edinburgh back in 2022. Emmie Finckel’s delightful scenic design transports the audience back in time to an indoor rodeo, replete with a circular stage which contains a number of hidden compartments that will be used during the course of the show. The show opens with a crisp non-verbal introduction to Xhloe & Natasha, both dressed as rodeo clowns. The two put on make-up and clothing, open and slam shut trapdoors, and dance onstage to Dolly Parton’s 1980 song “9 to 5.” We’ll soon learn that the musical selections in Rodeo are intentional, as the songs and lyrics often tie-in to the show’s larger themes (Parton’s hit single was the theme song to the comedic film of the same name, about a group of secretaries who plot revenge over their male boss).
After the music abruptly stops, Dale (Xhloe) is confused by Natasha’s presence. Who is this “shadow,” and why is she following them around? How dare she think she can be a rodeo clown, too, as Dale has been working hard at it for a long time! This here rodeo is the best place on earth, she keeps saying.
But is it? Natasha’s innocent interrogation soon causes Dale to have doubts, as she realizes how little she has paused to reflect on her situation. Is this the greatest place in the world? And will she ever truly stop being a rodeo clown, dodging the bulls and shoveling the shit, and become a cowboy? And if so, and then what? What’s outside, what’s beyond the rodeo? What if they were to leave, create their own lives that are meaningful and satisfying versus merely sucking up and accepting the one we have?
Again, such existential questions are introduced through brilliantly choreographed physical sequences. It’s difficult to remember that these clowns are two different people, as the timing and coordination on display from Xhloe & Natasha is virtuosic. Plus, under all of the gags, physical stunts, and musical sequences (they repeat a number of actions from “9 to 5,” this time to Johnny Cash and Elvis Presley), Rodeo doesn’t lose sight of its emotional heart.
As the show progresses, established conventions are continually upended. Xhloe becomes the shadow and Natasha becomes Dale, and both get confused who is who. The last section of And Then the Rodeo Burned Down evokes Luigi Pirandello, where the two performers become conscious that they are playing a variety of roles. They wonder who they are without the masks, and if destruction could lead to creativity, love, and hope. In this space, the rodeo is a confining system–patriarchy, capitalism, heteronormativity, all of the above and more. We want these two clowns to wipe away the greasepaint and burn it all down, because don’t we all feel like the current circus is just driving us nuts?
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