In PREPAREDNESS, a mandatory HR session threatens the survival of a college theater department.
The made-up movie feels like one of those sweeping international melodramas with lots of expansive cinematography. In the minds of its creators, it’s an epic-length narrative replete with multi-generational strands and leaps forward in time.
If you can say one thing, and only one thing, about Harris’s body of work thus far, it’s that it certainly seems to incite conversation.
And as we talk, all of our conversations seem to circle back to time; the passage of time, generations over time, geologic time that the mind can hardly fathom. “It’s hard to ignore when you think about things like climate. Suddenly you feel really small – in time.”
You feel, given the virtuosity and care demonstrated onstage, that you owe this much. You can carry all this. If you let it fall, it’ll break the spell. Don’t spill the water.
We are constantly delighting each other with things and discoveries and even in scenes where the characters are brutal and cruel beyond imagination to each other—as soon as we get out of character, everyone is so full of laughter and joy.
There is an open mic and a fantasy slow dance to memories yet to occur, and a dance party that is pretty cute. I fall in love for exactly 15 minutes and it’s the best.
We share our sweat, our humidity, our heat. We weather it, as Kelly does inside the box.
Though their insular world went weird, and quickly, I was there, because they were there. Davis and Markey have the attunement to one another that only comes from a sustained exposure to the other’s way of standing, talking, moving, being-in-the-world.
We, as a culture, seem to be searching for answers that black futures may provide us.
Responding to CUTE ACTIVIST at the Bushwick Starr: “Does this play want me to ‘like’ it or to ‘crying face’ it?”
She exists, she conjures, she illuminates through whisper and scream.