"Dog Act" at convergence-continuum

Denise Astorino in "Dog Act"
(convergence-continuum, 2022)

There is something about the apocalypse. I can’t watch the gruesome fantasy of a horror film, but there is something about certain tales of life post-civilization that I find thrilling, and in a way, comforting. Within any post-apocalyptic narrative is the supposition that humanity will endure. It may be painful, terrifying, and unspeakably difficult. But at least there is hope.

This week we were assigned Learning To Die in the Anthropocene (Reflections on the End of Civilization) by Roy Scranton. This book about the calamitous effects of global climate change offers no hope at all, at least not for humanity. That it is a rumination on the possibility of acceptance, that is the best it can offer.

Last night, my son and I went to see Dog Act by Liz Duffy Adams and directed by David L. Munnell at convergence-continuum. It’s about a small cohort of survivors in a future when the seasons can abruptly change from winter to summer in a snap. Our protagonists are a charming duo of scavenging vaudevillians who can sing and act, and speak in a rapid-fire patois of contemporary turns of phrases which have mutated far beyond their original meaning.

One of the more enjoyable aspects of this production is that the players (within the play) are actually talented, and that their brief performances (with the larger performance) are entertaining, amusing, and even affecting. Evidence of the lasting value and significance of live performance.

"Mister Burns, A Post-Electric Play"
(Cleveland Public Theatre, 2016)

This was bizarrely not the case in the HBO miniseries adaptation of Emily St. John Mandel’s novel Station Eleven. I am a fan of the book, and I really enjoyed the program (especially Himesh Patel as Jeevan Chaudhary, whose character is radically changed from the book into the character with the most affecting character arc) but I was dumbfounded by the actual performances of Shakespeare, which were unfortunately soporific.

Six years ago, Cleveland Public Theatre produced Mr. Burns, A Post-Electric Play by Anne Washburn and Michael Friedman, which is something of a lightning rod among my friends, several of whom do not like that play at all. I thought it was pretty incredible, the absurd conceit of the enduring mythos of certain animated television programs and the power of human storytelling, as folks produce stage adaptations of The Simpsons in a lawless and violent wasteland.

This year has been quite the existential hoot so far, viewing a stage production of Last Ship to Proxima Centauri (more on that), and reading Voices from Chernobyl by Svetlana Alexievich for class at the same time Russian troops have been using this most radioactive place on earth as a staging area for the invasion of nearby Kyiv, Ukraine, digging up radioactive material and presumably carrying it with them in their bones.

"Dog Act" by Liz Duffy Adams continues at convergence-continuum through April 16, 2022.