Filigree’s ‘100 Planes’ is subtle, yet powerful, examination of women in the military

As our military industrial complex becomes more integrated in modern times, what does it really take for a woman to succeed as an officer? That’s the question at the heart of Lila Rose Kaplan’s intriguing work, 100 Planes, being given a worthy interpretation by Filigree Theatre and director Elizabeth V. Newman. Here, we follow Lieutenant Kay McClure, a plucky, awkward, but incredibly skilled young pilot who has always dreamed of flying, and who idolizes the famous pilot, Major Anne Clarkson. When Clarkson begins looking for recruits to pilot her new, top-of-the-line hybrid plane, Kay becomes obsessed with taking the spot, but does she have the drive to follow through on all the hardships that will come her way, and is she willing to sacrifice the ones she loves, and even a bit of herself, to make her dreams a reality? Though it may go overly dramatic in its last act, 100 Planes is an intriguing look at a sector not often examined in theatrical works, and does so with a subtle, nuanced hand that not only shines a light on to the darknesses within the complex itself, but also examines the toll the pressure of working in said complex can have on a person.

One of the most intriguing elements of 100 Planes is the way it examines femininity in masculine spaces. Early on we’re shown that in the military complex in which the action plays, femininity is liability, an invitation for abuse, seen as a frivolity to the higher-ups. It’s fascinating to see the moments when our characters are allowed to show their feminine qualities, whether it’s Kay’s attachment to her heart pillow, or something as small as Major Clarkson’s gift of a rose to her girlfriend. On the flip side, however, much of the play’s tension lies in the explosive reaction that occurs when one tries to tamp down or eliminate their traditionally feminine characteristics, as part of the incendiary finale of the play can be seen as a reaction to an unbridled pursuit of a masculine ideal. That our protagonist only finds the peace she seeks by embracing her softer, emotional qualities can’t be seen as a coincidence.

Taking on the characters in 100 Planes is no small feat, as each of them, by nature of their employment, is forced to tone down their emotions in order to fit in to the military environment. This forces most of the actors’ decisions to be subtle ones, to play with the affect in ways that won’t detract from the verisimilitude of their environs. This can, at times, effect chemistry between the two romantic leads, as their romance is forced at times to play against what at times feels like a brick wall, but it’s to lead actress Alani Rose Chock’s credit that the relationship feels genuine. Chock injects an awkwardness into her character that makes even her most buttoned-up moments endearing, as one can tell there’s always a sweetness underlining even her most rigid moments.

Brennan Patrick, for his part, plays as the perfect counterpart to these women. If the play is an examination of femininity in masculine places, the sensitivity and emotional nature of Patrick’s character seems to be exploration of these feminine qualities in men. Though he never comes off as effete, his deep adoration for Chock’s Kay, and his resolute pursuit of truth and peace make for an interesting counterpoint to the stern masculinity at play in many of the corners of military industrial complex in which this play spends most of its time. Patrick is an excellent counterweight to a play that can come off as a bit stern and overbearing at times, providing an affecting, emotional core to the piece that’s quite refreshing.

If we’re speaking of emotional arcs, no actor pulls theirs off more effectively than Brittany Flurry as Monique. From her earliest moments, it’s clear that Monique is a figure that’s been ground down by the complex, forced into her surly disposition by both the military and an overly-determined lover. She’s been pulled along and pushed around so long, the chip on her shoulder has become a yoke she’s forced to bear. Watching her break down near the end of the play’s run is one of the most powerful moments in the production, and Flurry sells it with aplomb, bringing a slight tear to even the hardened audience member.

Though many of the supporting performance are quite impressive, none of this would work without fine performances from our two leads, the hardened Major and her promising new recruit. Their relationships is an intriguing one, as the harshness of Major Clarkson, played with gruff determination by Karen Harrison, is buoyed beautifully by Chock’s plucky resolve to become the best. Their dance is a measured one, an intricate waltz that becomes more treacherous as the play continues, with motives being questioned and allegiances changing with every movement. These characters are slightly let down in the later stages of the work, as a few predictable, overly-dramatic elements take them away from situations that could be more emotionally satisfying, but one the whole, these two play their complicated game with an intelligence and drive that’s admirable.

Though it doesn’t quite stick the landing, 100 Planes is a powerful look at how women fight to survive in masculine spaces, and the disastrous effects this struggle can have on the psyche. The play forces the performers to step up to a higher level of emotional intelligence, and they mostly rise to meet it, creating a nuanced piece of drama that’s sure to leave the audience shaken.

100 Planes is playing at the Mastrogorge Theatre through April 13th. For more information, and to purchase tickets, visit filigreetheatre.com.

Photo courtesy of Steve Rogers.

‘Actually’ is an emotionally acute examination of race and sex in modern America

I have always been fond of plays performed in atypical places. I have seen plays in parks, bars, homes, and everything in between, and though the productions aren’t always better for it, when things go perfectly, the locale adds another dimension to the performance. As I walked into the lecture hall where Actually, the new production by fledgling company Workhound, was being produced, I was taken aback a second, as this was, indeed, a white board-clad, florescently-lit classroom, a strange place for a play to be performed. As the play went on, however, I realized just what this play provided: intimacy. Anna Ziegler’s words probably would have been effective behind a proscenium, but when the actors are just a few feet away, staring directly at you, you can help but feel the devastation, letting this tsunami of an experience wash over you with all the more ferocity.

Actually is a play about sexual assault. There are no two ways about it, and it’s what makes the play such a hard sit, and even more difficult sell. By its very nature, it’s a high barrier to entry for some people, as, though we of course never see the actions depicted on stage, there are scenes within that could be triggering. This is in no way meant to dissuade anyone from seeing the play, but I feel I would not being doing my due diligence if this was not brought up. The play tackles the subject with respect, clarity, and honesty, but even the director and actors acknowledge the nature of the subject at the heart of the play. 

Actually follows the relationship of Amber and Tom, two new college freshmen, both trying to break free from the boxes society has put them, who find themselves going to bed together after a night of drinking. Though hazy, when Amber awakes the next morning, she realizes the sex may have been something less than consensual. What follows is a well-balanced, thorough, and honest examination of what brought both of our characters to this point, bringing us through the racism, sexism, and other other biases that our societal structures place upon us, and how they can shape who we to become. Characters are never demonized, giving a clear-eyed view of each of their actions, even if those actions lead somewhere incredibly dark.

Though he’s shown solid work on stages all across town, few roles have given Kriston Woodreaux the ability to show off his range more than Actually. As the play begins, it’s easy to write off Woodreuax’s Thomas Anthony as a the typical macho alpha male, all swagger, good looks, and a sly smile. It doesn’t take long, though for us to see the layers beneath it all: the intelligence, the sensitivity, the tenderness.This is all aided greatly by the fact that Woodreaux is never afraid to be vulnerable. There were quite a few moments that had me nearly in tears, as Woodreaux was so connected to the role that you lose track of where he begins and Tom ends. There’s certainly anger there, but Woodreaux is sure to always show the pain beneath each outburst, whether stemming from his race, his upbringing, or even his attractiveness.

The play doesn’t have quite as meaty a role for Lauren Jacobs. By its nature, the role of Amber stands out much less, and so Jacob’s performance doesn’t reach the emotional extremes of Woodreaux’s. Amber is more reserved, withdrawn, almost the polar opposite to Tom’s charisma hurricane. What Jacobs does with the material, though, is not any less impressive than Woodreaux, as she sells the character through subtle cues: twitches, quick glances, vocal choices. In its own way, it’s even easier for certain members of the audience to relate to Jacob’s Amber, as her insecurities are constantly on display, brought out especially by the direct address style of the play, and Ziegler’s sharp writing.

In “Actually”, director Jeremy Lee Cudd has given audiences the chance to see two young actors rising to the top of their game, with a piece that could not be more timely. Though its subject matter may be tough to take at times, those able to experience the play are sure to leave changed people. Workhound is showing itself to be a company not afraid to tackle difficult subjects, and handle them with respect, all the while bringing passion and emotional honesty, and I for one hope to see much more from them in the future. 

Actually is playing in UT’s Winship Theatre Building through November 18th. For directions, tickets, and more information, visit their facebook at facebook.com/wrkhnd/.