Clovis de Chaumes, Theatre Reviewer, Reviews an Elementary School Open House

I was having aperitifs at Boqueira Soho with Alan Cumming and William H. Macy when William asked, "Alan, when I say theatrical gravitas, who do you think of first?"  To which Alan replied, "I think of two things: Bill Nighy's eyes and Liev Schreiber's ass"  Which brings me to the subject of "Open House at Fairview Elementary School", a play that lures its audience in with mysterious eyes, but gives them a visceral physicality to grab on to.  The performance, subtitled "Welcome Back Tigers!" combines Brechtian dissonance with Chekovian tensions.  Complete with gluten-free cookies and sugarless juice, the show's set reaches beyond the cafeteria stage and throughout the venue, as motivational posters and quotes adorn the walls, along with student artwork showing various degrees of artistic competence.

The evening opens with Principal Jennifer McManus, a woman clearly in crisis.  Her absentee husband and rebellious daughter have made her job her rock.  As she throws herself into an opening monologue about "positive environment" and "gains in test scores," there is a lingering emptiness behind her eyes in which you can see her going to an empty house, feeding the dog, playing with herself without climax and crying herself to sleep.

We then transition into a song sung by the school choir, titled "Get On The Bus!"  On the surface, a repetitive and trite melody and lyrics about boarding a school bus, but between the lines it's a call to conformity; a subliminal command to forget individuality and identity.  One can see our dear Ms. McManus realizing that her own cage was built when she was the same age as these children.  She tenses through smiles and thumbs-up as we can see her long to tell these young boys and girls to cast off the shackles of societal norms.  But alas, she stays mute.

Once the children exit the platform (quite noisily, I might add) we hear from campus police, Officer Ron Grossbeck. The resident Javert, Officer Ron seeks order and animatedly cautions the children about the boogeymen of "strangers," "jaywalking" and "being unsupervised afterschool." As he becomes ever sweatier, Officer Ron closes his soliloquy with a politically charged, "We're here to protect your children."

Then, in an interesting twist, the fourth wall is broken and the parents are encouraged by Ms. McManus to share amongst themselves their own first day of school stories.  This bold audience interaction does not come without risk, as several parents make for the doors, muttering "I just wanted to say 'Hi' to the teacher. I still have to pick up Josh from soccer."  Just when it seems the audience is on the brink of disinterest, Ms. McManus' voice rings out "If you can hear my voice, clap once!"  Immediately, like automatons, the room responds.  "If you can hear my voice, clap two times!" Another response!  "If you can hear my voice...clap three times!" A burst of applause and laughter at the ruse as the audience returns to their seats for the second act.

The second act opens with a word from Nurse June Stoerner, a jolly and matronly character whose unexpected acerbic wit is evident in lines like, "Your child is welcome to lie down in the clinic until you can arrive but once you get them they're your problem."

Ms. McManus returns (same costume as before) and steers the show towards a speech about the new cell-phone policy, stating "If your child's cellphone is confiscated there is a $10 fee to retrieve it."  A speech punctuated with audience reactions ranging from suspicion to confusion, it quickly unravels and is only saved by Ms. Ellen Newton, the school counselor.  In a regular deus ex machina, Ms. Newton swoops in to say that the PTO decided not to tack on the fee to avoid the conflict of interest.  Having been publicly subjugated by Ms. Newton, Ms. McManus descent into ignominy is complete, as we watch her step back and recognize that Ms. Newton has usurped her position.  We see in her eyes a glint of the realization that without power comes freedom.

The denouement comes in the form of Officer Ron returning to remind the parents that they were only permitted to park on the street because school was not in session; that normally "you will be ticketed."  It is at this point that Ms. McManus returns, ironically empowered by her loss of authority, to thank the audience for their attendance and asking the parents to sign-in before their departure so their child can receive the free bumper sticker in school tomorrow.

I remember watching a production of Equus in Stockholm where the actors portraying the horses were amputees outfitted with phalluses.  It remains the edgiest off-Broadway play I have seen and is the standard by which I judge all theatre that seeks to challenge, such as in "The Open House at Fairview Elementary School." There be no horse phalluses here but there is nothing obtuse about the evening as the stakes are raised from the start and the drama unfolds over the next 43 minutes.  But the true measure of play is in how much conversation it inspires after its viewing and rest assured, this play will lead to discussions of conformity, authority and existence. Be warned, however, you must bring your own Claret.