We know ‘The Monkeys are Coming’ but where is this show going?

"The Monkeys are Coming!” opens in the dark, with actors staggering around and upending set pieces for over five minutes. It’s an apt metaphor for how the audience feels after this fascinating production that never quite makes the leap from interesting concept to inspired theater.

From the outset it is clear that this play, written in Russian by Lev Lunts (then in his teens) nearly a century ago, is preoccupied with the constraints and conventions of the theater. When the lights are finally raised, we see a man in a thick wool hat (Chris Ghaffari ’12) gazing in awe at the set. He stares incredulously at the overhead lights, zaps himself on an exposed wire and nearly topples a huge column. All of this amuses Jeff Kuperman ’12, a buffoonish “Shoot” clad in dazzling royal blue shoes, who wryly asks the man if this is his first time in a theater. This sort of exchange recurs throughout the play, as Kuperman’s character maintains a dynamic running commentary on the nature of the theatrical.

Other conventions are tossed out as well. Inscrutable mock playbills are left on each seat in the theatre; the actual programs aren’t distributed until after the performance. Conversations between members of the crew are broadcast through the whole theater. Kuperman gleefully promises the audience that there will be a spread of cantaloupe and pastries served afterwards. Actors talk to Styrofoam mannequins seated next to patrons and later drag them onstage for a curtain call. I wonder why director Gabriel Crouse ’12 opted not to have the cast engage the audience directly at these moments. With so much contemporary performance art that incorporates (involuntary) audience participation, the mannequins seem too safe for a production that’s trying to be theatrically radical.

As for the plot — well, there isn’t much. Throughout the performance, actors stagger onstage into a single room, seeking refuge from a ferocious snowstorm. That the production is staged in the stiflingly hot Matthews Acting Studio adds a bit of unintended comedy. With the help of the Shoot, they entertain themselves and ponder the nature of theater. Loudspeaker announcements about an approaching band of savage monkeys cause widespread panic. In the final scene, the cast disassembles the set to construct a barricade against the attackers. The whole thing is over in less than an hour.

Under the direction of Crouse, Lunts’ idiosyncratic vision is capably brought to life. The nature of the play demands strong ensemble acting more than brilliance from a couple of actors, and Crouse has developed his large cast into a cohesive unit.

The production’s technical work is exceptional, highlighted by Technical Director Tim Godin’s set. It is one room as bizarre as the play itself, stretching from elegant (with Doric columns and a marble hearth) to rustic (with wooden bunks in which a couple of peasants sleep). It’s also impressively modular, as the cast dismantles it in seconds during the climactic scene.

The cumulative effect of all the convention-bending seemed to subdue and baffle the audience. When the house lights went up for the final time, many people remained in their seats for some time, unsure whether the play was actually over and what to think about it. “I guess this is why they teach classes on theater,” I heard one attendee remark while walking to the exit.

This type of reaction highlights both the production’s central strength and its principle weakness. Crouse deserves much credit for a thoughtful production that showcases an excellent new translation of an obscure but provocative Russian drama and for exposing segments of the campus community to the limitations of realism and conventional staging. The production falls short, however, in using the success of these concrete objectives to achieve something more. Frequently, the very best thesis shows are both innovative in form and emotionally arresting. Here, a strong connection between the central questions of the play — What are these “monkeys” fast approaching, and how do we feel as they close in? — and the staging is not established. Crouse’s production surprised and confused more than it provoked serious reflection. And for a show with so many strengths, that’s a shame.