 "Photo: Ryan Joyce")
This weekend, the Contemporary Theater presented An Evening of One Acts, which included two plays - Graceland and Asleep on the Wind - both by playwright Ellon Byron.
In Graceland, Byron takes her audience to June 4, 1982 - three days before Elvis Presley's mansion of the same name is set to be opened to the public. Early in the morning, Bev (Grace Jacobson, A&S '10) arrives to the front gate and lays out her sleeping bag to claim stake as the first in line to enter Presley's mansion. Shortly thereafter, Rootie (Molly Murphy, A&S '09) comes, putting down her pillow and brown paper bag. When Bev returns with her lawn chair and cooler filled with sweet treats, Rootie informs her that she, in fact, has arrived first, because she was the first to sit down. From there on out, the two argue over who has the right to enter Graceland first. Bev is Elvis's biggest fan, while Rootie hopes to find a reminiscence of her brother Beau's soul, who is now dead. They take turns sitting in front of each other, debating over who knows more about Elvis, and even discussing whose relatives look more like him.
Bev describes Rootie as "one of those kids they find in the woods after 10 years." Rootie refuses Bev's candy, revealing that her husband does not allow her to eat it because he likes her to stay as thin as the opening of a door; her name is even skinny to match. She is fascinated by Brigadoon, talks like a Southern belle, and she wears cakes of makeup, because "once you take it off, you're not a princess anymore." This dependence on others to make her happy as well as the paper bag comes to foreshadow the lifestyle that she has come to live.
Bev is composed, but both are submissive women. She avoids her "woman itches," even when her husband is gone for three to four weeks at a time on the road. They turn out to be united through their love for Elvis, which carries them through life. The two women realize soon enough that they have more in common than what they think, and on an incredible theatrical journey, they grow together.
In the second one act, Asleep on the Wind, the viewer is taken back 10 years earlier to the secret place that Bev speaks of in Graceland, to the moment where her brother Beau (Seth Byrum, A&S '11) reveals it to her. Alone in a forest in Louisiana, Beau reveals to his little sister that he is leaving to go to Baton Rouge to join the army. He says, "I'll be just like daddy and drink myself to sleep every night." The audience learns how Rootie became obsessed with Beau, who instructs her that, "There ain't nothing better than him," placing her in charge of his Elvis records. Beau is the model example for how familial relationships should be. He is the father that she never had, urging her to stay and school and make something of herself to, so that both can find their American dreams. In Rootie, the audience sees innocence lost. As a child, she cannot cope with losing her brother, telling him that she hates him.
As Rootie, Murphy was a gem, demonstrating great stage presence. Her transition from young woman to pubescent child was executed wonderfully, with an earnest believability. She embodied her character fully - delivering well-thought out movements in every moment, like a full, functioning person, such as playing with her brother's shoelaces while lying innocently in his lap. And her Southern accent would fool any Southerner.
On the supporting side, Jacobson in the roll of Bev played a delightful mature woman. Byrum was charming as Beau, giving a performance that seemed genuine; however, his voice was distracting. He did not mirror the backwoods Southern dialect that Murphy did. Unlike Murphy, whose character was part of her entity, Byrum, for a man who "walked" reveals it to her. Alone in a forest in Louisiana, Beau reveals to his little sister that he is leaving to go to Baton Rouge to join the army. He says, "I'll be just like daddy and drink myself to sleep every night." The audience learns how Rootie became obsessed with Beau, who instructs her that, "There ain't nothing better than him," placing her in charge of his Elvis records. Beau is the model example for how familial relationships should be. He is the father that she never had, urging her to stay in school and make something of herself too, so that both can find their American dreams. In Rootie, the audience sees innocence lost. As a child, she cannot cope with losing her brother, telling him that she hates him.
As Rootie, Murphy was a gem, demonstrating great stage presence. Her transition from young woman to pubescent child was executed wonderfully, with an earnest believability. She embodied her character fully - delivering well-thought -out movements in every moment, like a full, functioning person, such as playing with her brother's shoelaces while lying innocently in his lap. And her Southern accent would fool any Southerner.
On the supporting side, Jacobson in the roll of Bev played a delightful, mature woman. Her exit at the play's close, in which her character makes a selfless decision, was beautifully moving. Byrum was charming as Beau, giving a performance that seemed genuine; however, his voice was distracting. He did not mirror the backwoods Southern dialect that Murphy did. Additionally, Murphy made her character a part of her entity. Beau was a man who "walked" and "talked" as Elvis did, but Byrum largely ignored this except for when the script instructed him to.
The two stories together poignantly attack America's obsession with wealth and fame. Bev speaks of Elvis saying, "I have dedicated my whole life to this man, to preserving his memory." While Presley is the tenor of the play rather than the vehicle, a greater understanding of his life is brought about through the show. We see a little of the man in Rootie - a tragic life but a hopeful personality. As a popular force, he gave a generation freedom in his music. Yet afterward, through his death, he became even more popular - a man that the average American could reach out to. As Rootie says, "I'm not sure if God is there, but I'm sure Elvis is."
Perhaps that's why some say that Elvis really isn't dead. Whatever the case, the spirit of Ellen Byron's plays aren't dead within their viewers' hearts thanks to Sarah Williams's, A&S '08, masterful direction.
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