Institute for Theatre Journalism and Advocacy
2025 Critiques
Addison McBroom from Winona State University
Review:
On Tuesday January 21st at 7:00pm South Dakota State University (SDSU) put on their performance of Fuddy Meers by David Lindsay-Abaire at the Hoyt Sherman Place here at this years KCACTF5. I showed up forty-five minutes before the show opened and when I arrived the line was already out the door. So many people standing out in freezing temperatures waiting to see this show, I knew that I was in for a good performance. The play is a dark comedy that follows a woman, Claire (Claire Booth), who has amnesia, and is just trying to get through the day. Throughout the play there are twists and turn and nothing is as it really seems. This play had warnings beforehand as it deals with concepts of domestic violence, as previously stated it is a dark comedy. The set consists of a fold out two-level house that opens and closes to show different locations of the houses. The set design was beautiful from what I could see, unfortunately I was not able to see the beginning of the play due to the set-up of the set. The Hoyt Sherman Place was the theatre that Fuddy Meers took place in, which had a main floor level and a balcony for audience members to sit. People who sat on the main level especially when sitting closer to the front had a hard time seeing the second level of the house. Since, I missed the beginning of the play I was worried that I was not going to be emersed in the show, but as soon as the actors came downstage, I was fully engaged and ready to listen. All the actors seemed to work well together, and I never felt that a character didn’t belong in the scene. Everything in this show had a purpose including the transitions, transitions can sometimes take audience members out of the play, where in SDSU’s performance they turned their transitions into their own show. The stage crew were dressed up at clowns and circus workers and mimed their own little stories to follow. Along with that when characters walked on and off stage, they stayed in character, such as the Limping Man (Jacob Stevens) who kept his limp the whole time. The show is filled with dark themes that not everyone is comfortable with, it can sometimes make a play heavy. This show had moments that would make you laugh, such as Kenny (Alex Strawn), Richard (Gerrit VonEye), and Heidi (Kennedy Foster) smoking weed in the car, helping to break up the heavy topic at hand. Even though this show was dark, as well as comedic, the plot never felt dull. This show was filled with so much talent and I am so glad that I was able to watch, and if given the chance would see it again.
Review:
On Tuesday January 21st at 7:00pm South Dakota State University (SDSU) put on their performance of Fuddy Meers by David Lindsay-Abaire at the Hoyt Sherman Place here at this years KCACTF5. I showed up forty-five minutes before the show opened and when I arrived the line was already out the door. So many people standing out in freezing temperatures waiting to see this show, I knew that I was in for a good performance. The play is a dark comedy that follows a woman, Claire (Claire Booth), who has amnesia, and is just trying to get through the day. Throughout the play there are twists and turn and nothing is as it really seems. This play had warnings beforehand as it deals with concepts of domestic violence, as previously stated it is a dark comedy. The set consists of a fold out two-level house that opens and closes to show different locations of the houses. The set design was beautiful from what I could see, unfortunately I was not able to see the beginning of the play due to the set-up of the set. The Hoyt Sherman Place was the theatre that Fuddy Meers took place in, which had a main floor level and a balcony for audience members to sit. People who sat on the main level especially when sitting closer to the front had a hard time seeing the second level of the house. Since, I missed the beginning of the play I was worried that I was not going to be emersed in the show, but as soon as the actors came downstage, I was fully engaged and ready to listen. All the actors seemed to work well together, and I never felt that a character didn’t belong in the scene. Everything in this show had a purpose including the transitions, transitions can sometimes take audience members out of the play, where in SDSU’s performance they turned their transitions into their own show. The stage crew were dressed up at clowns and circus workers and mimed their own little stories to follow. Along with that when characters walked on and off stage, they stayed in character, such as the Limping Man (Jacob Stevens) who kept his limp the whole time. The show is filled with dark themes that not everyone is comfortable with, it can sometimes make a play heavy. This show had moments that would make you laugh, such as Kenny (Alex Strawn), Richard (Gerrit VonEye), and Heidi (Kennedy Foster) smoking weed in the car, helping to break up the heavy topic at hand. Even though this show was dark, as well as comedic, the plot never felt dull. This show was filled with so much talent and I am so glad that I was able to watch, and if given the chance would see it again.
AnaLyn Kozelsky from Iowa State University
Fuddy Meers, Chaos in a Dollhouse
Fuddy Meers will go down in history as a chaotic and heartbreaking comedic production. The twists and turns of this show happen so fast that the audience must strap into the roller coaster of this show to catch all the details. The choreography of the chaos was balanced well with the purity of heartfelt moments between the characters. Viewing Fuddy Meers would leave any theatergoer on the edge of their seat with tears streaming down their face.
This play opened with Claire, who has lost recollection of days prior due to amnesia, being greeted by her optimistic husband. Claire’s husband explains her condition and leaves her with a book to guide her day. From under the bed, a masked man with a limp and lisp pops out and claims to be her brother trying to save her from her husband. She leaves with him, and her guiding book is tossed out the window. They flee to the house of Claire’s mother, who can only speak gibberish. Soon after their arrival, a shifty character with a foul-mouthed puppet show up. Claire’s husband and stoner son go on a harrowing mission to find Claire and kidnap a feisty female police officer after a traffic stop. The house quickly turns into that of a maze of funhouse mirrors, an adventure which reveals the true story of Claire’s life.
The set held so much meaning and adventure. The fourth walls were literally opened to reveal the world hidden behind them. The dollhouse effect kept the audience’s attention in the correct focus and allowed for a lot of play to happen between the actors. Everything on the walls were slightly askew and the walls themselves had an abstract design full of neat angles, which resembled how Claire sees the world.
The actors and technicians managed the fast-paced nature of this show beautifully, and the carney transition crew did a wonderful job keeping the energy alive during the scene transitions. The audience interacted with the carney crew, and its members fed the laughter and cheers of the audience. This symbiotic relationship between cast and audience created an immersive experience unlike any other. This ensemble worked in a poetic manner to achieve a unified goal and told a beautiful story while doing so. Fuddy Meers was fantastic! The intricate details melded together beautifully, and the quick turns kept the audience engaged. Telling a story that truly makes the audience cry and laugh in the matter of an hour and a half is a difficult feat, but one that this production accomplished. This show rightfully ended with a standing ovation.
Fuddy Meers, Chaos in a Dollhouse
Fuddy Meers will go down in history as a chaotic and heartbreaking comedic production. The twists and turns of this show happen so fast that the audience must strap into the roller coaster of this show to catch all the details. The choreography of the chaos was balanced well with the purity of heartfelt moments between the characters. Viewing Fuddy Meers would leave any theatergoer on the edge of their seat with tears streaming down their face.
This play opened with Claire, who has lost recollection of days prior due to amnesia, being greeted by her optimistic husband. Claire’s husband explains her condition and leaves her with a book to guide her day. From under the bed, a masked man with a limp and lisp pops out and claims to be her brother trying to save her from her husband. She leaves with him, and her guiding book is tossed out the window. They flee to the house of Claire’s mother, who can only speak gibberish. Soon after their arrival, a shifty character with a foul-mouthed puppet show up. Claire’s husband and stoner son go on a harrowing mission to find Claire and kidnap a feisty female police officer after a traffic stop. The house quickly turns into that of a maze of funhouse mirrors, an adventure which reveals the true story of Claire’s life.
The set held so much meaning and adventure. The fourth walls were literally opened to reveal the world hidden behind them. The dollhouse effect kept the audience’s attention in the correct focus and allowed for a lot of play to happen between the actors. Everything on the walls were slightly askew and the walls themselves had an abstract design full of neat angles, which resembled how Claire sees the world.
The actors and technicians managed the fast-paced nature of this show beautifully, and the carney transition crew did a wonderful job keeping the energy alive during the scene transitions. The audience interacted with the carney crew, and its members fed the laughter and cheers of the audience. This symbiotic relationship between cast and audience created an immersive experience unlike any other. This ensemble worked in a poetic manner to achieve a unified goal and told a beautiful story while doing so. Fuddy Meers was fantastic! The intricate details melded together beautifully, and the quick turns kept the audience engaged. Telling a story that truly makes the audience cry and laugh in the matter of an hour and a half is a difficult feat, but one that this production accomplished. This show rightfully ended with a standing ovation.
Danni Haynes from the University of Missouri-Columbia
Ride the Cyclone Takes the Stage at KCACTF: A Thrilling Ride of Hits and Misses
A wild ride that blends humor, heartbreak, and existential crisis, Truman State University’s production of Ride the Cyclone at KCACTF5 was an emotional rollercoaster in more ways than one. Bringing such an unconventional and daring musical to life is no small feat, and Truman definitely took on the challenge with enthusiasm and ambition. However, they may have fallen slightly short of expectations. While the production offered moments of creativity and energy, some elements struggled to fully capture the musical's unique magic and emotional weight.
Ride the Cyclone is a quirky, dark comedy musical about six members of a high school chamber choir from a small Canadian town who tragically died in a roller coaster accident. After their untimely demise, they find themselves in a mysterious purgatory-like carnival, where they meet The Amazing Karnak. Karnak offers the group a bizarre opportunity: one can return to life. To decide who gets this second chance, each choir member tells their story and pleads their case through song, revealing their hopes, dreams, and struggles. The musical explores identity, mortality, legacy, and the search for meaning. Despite its dark premise, Ride the Cyclone is a celebration of life, individuality, and the connections we form with others.
The set design was phenomenal, with roller coaster tracks arching across the stage and projections perfectly framed in the center. From the vintage game booth to the flickering carnival sign, the world of Ride the Cyclone felt immersive from the moment the audience entered. A standout detail was The Amazing Karnak (Elias Tucker), who remained motionless onstage for the pre-show, impressing many who initially thought he was a mannequin. Truman University also did an excellent job bringing the characters to life. The use of projections, especially showing baby photos during characters’ backstories, added an emotional layer that resonated with the audience, drawing them deeper into the story. This touch earned an audible “aww” and helped anchor the emotional core of the production. The singing and acting were strong across the board, with standout performances from Parker Shinn ( Noel), Michelle Yoder ( Jane), and Morgan Youngstrom (Constance).
However, some choices detracted from the experience. A spinning light sweeping across the audience broke immersion unnecessarily. More significantly, Ricky’s disability was erased—his backstory, which originally included a degenerative disease that left him mute and unable to walk, was changed to him being silent due to trauma. While the new license has been altered from the original, removing this element of representation felt disappointing, especially given the scarcity of characters with disabilities in theatre. It raises questions about whether the production could have fully honored the material and why Truman University would support a show that is taking away representation and has been called out by the disability community.
Ride the Cyclone Takes the Stage at KCACTF: A Thrilling Ride of Hits and Misses
A wild ride that blends humor, heartbreak, and existential crisis, Truman State University’s production of Ride the Cyclone at KCACTF5 was an emotional rollercoaster in more ways than one. Bringing such an unconventional and daring musical to life is no small feat, and Truman definitely took on the challenge with enthusiasm and ambition. However, they may have fallen slightly short of expectations. While the production offered moments of creativity and energy, some elements struggled to fully capture the musical's unique magic and emotional weight.
Ride the Cyclone is a quirky, dark comedy musical about six members of a high school chamber choir from a small Canadian town who tragically died in a roller coaster accident. After their untimely demise, they find themselves in a mysterious purgatory-like carnival, where they meet The Amazing Karnak. Karnak offers the group a bizarre opportunity: one can return to life. To decide who gets this second chance, each choir member tells their story and pleads their case through song, revealing their hopes, dreams, and struggles. The musical explores identity, mortality, legacy, and the search for meaning. Despite its dark premise, Ride the Cyclone is a celebration of life, individuality, and the connections we form with others.
The set design was phenomenal, with roller coaster tracks arching across the stage and projections perfectly framed in the center. From the vintage game booth to the flickering carnival sign, the world of Ride the Cyclone felt immersive from the moment the audience entered. A standout detail was The Amazing Karnak (Elias Tucker), who remained motionless onstage for the pre-show, impressing many who initially thought he was a mannequin. Truman University also did an excellent job bringing the characters to life. The use of projections, especially showing baby photos during characters’ backstories, added an emotional layer that resonated with the audience, drawing them deeper into the story. This touch earned an audible “aww” and helped anchor the emotional core of the production. The singing and acting were strong across the board, with standout performances from Parker Shinn ( Noel), Michelle Yoder ( Jane), and Morgan Youngstrom (Constance).
However, some choices detracted from the experience. A spinning light sweeping across the audience broke immersion unnecessarily. More significantly, Ricky’s disability was erased—his backstory, which originally included a degenerative disease that left him mute and unable to walk, was changed to him being silent due to trauma. While the new license has been altered from the original, removing this element of representation felt disappointing, especially given the scarcity of characters with disabilities in theatre. It raises questions about whether the production could have fully honored the material and why Truman University would support a show that is taking away representation and has been called out by the disability community.
Elliana Zerr from Northwestern College
“Ride the Cyclone” Review
The stage is bright with orange and red light. Noel (Parker Shinn) stands triumphantly as his deep, desperate breaths raise the slit in his black silk dress just barely above his fishnetted thighs. The audience is not finished with him yet. They cheer louder and longer, but hearing a short lull, Mischa (Logan Honerkamp) eggs them on with a quick flick of his hand. The audience complies, regaining energy in their praise. This moment highlighted the sense of ensemble created in Truman State University’s production of “Ride the Cyclone.”
The show focuses on the short lives of six members of a small town’s Catholic high school choir: Ocean, Noel, Mischa, Ricky, Constance, and Jane. After competing against (no) other choirs, the kids are rewarded with a trip to an amusement park where they lower the lap bar of the “Cyclone”, a coaster that flings and twirls each member to their death. In the afterlife, they meet fortune-telling-machine Karnak (Elias Tucker) who brazenly informs the group that they will choose one person who will return to life on Earth. After detailing the experiences they had and longed for, the audience is reminded that each moment is precious; to stop and “take a look around.”
Ocean (Aubrey Gogel) was self-absorbed and relentlessly fighting against her friends throughout the play. While the script calls for some of this narcissism, it also calls for Ocean to be the person who chooses Jane Doe (Michelle Yoder) to return to life, as she lost her head in the accident and had no memory of her life before. Gogel’s choices, including dramatically crying when listening to her “best friend’s” ballad, while focused and clear, made it difficult to believe that Ocean had enough humanity to value anyone other than herself, even by the end of the show. Yoder’s performance as Jane Doe, though, charmed the audience with her sailing operatic vocal prowess and steadfast commitment to articulating in a doll-like fashion, so much so that it was clear why even egotistical Ocean would want the poor, broken girl to live.
The actors played on a raked stage, enclosed by three rings of the “Cyclone” and flanked by two carnival booths. While the pieces created interesting stage pictures, they were not always highlighted in the best way. The production team should be given grace for producing their show in a new unfamiliar space. Yet, with neither of these flanking booths being lit well even when they were being used, with fun elements like the neon boards of the “Cyclone” that only glowed under the blacklight of the preshow, and with LED strip lights along the tracks that only shone for approximately ten seconds, one must wonder if the interesting tech elements were necessary or distracting.
With some note-worthy performances and a hopeful message, Truman State University’s production of “Ride the Cyclone” leaves tech-savvy theatre-goers with something to be desired, but perhaps an invitation to not focus on the details, but rather that “it’s just a ride.”
“Ride the Cyclone” Review
The stage is bright with orange and red light. Noel (Parker Shinn) stands triumphantly as his deep, desperate breaths raise the slit in his black silk dress just barely above his fishnetted thighs. The audience is not finished with him yet. They cheer louder and longer, but hearing a short lull, Mischa (Logan Honerkamp) eggs them on with a quick flick of his hand. The audience complies, regaining energy in their praise. This moment highlighted the sense of ensemble created in Truman State University’s production of “Ride the Cyclone.”
The show focuses on the short lives of six members of a small town’s Catholic high school choir: Ocean, Noel, Mischa, Ricky, Constance, and Jane. After competing against (no) other choirs, the kids are rewarded with a trip to an amusement park where they lower the lap bar of the “Cyclone”, a coaster that flings and twirls each member to their death. In the afterlife, they meet fortune-telling-machine Karnak (Elias Tucker) who brazenly informs the group that they will choose one person who will return to life on Earth. After detailing the experiences they had and longed for, the audience is reminded that each moment is precious; to stop and “take a look around.”
Ocean (Aubrey Gogel) was self-absorbed and relentlessly fighting against her friends throughout the play. While the script calls for some of this narcissism, it also calls for Ocean to be the person who chooses Jane Doe (Michelle Yoder) to return to life, as she lost her head in the accident and had no memory of her life before. Gogel’s choices, including dramatically crying when listening to her “best friend’s” ballad, while focused and clear, made it difficult to believe that Ocean had enough humanity to value anyone other than herself, even by the end of the show. Yoder’s performance as Jane Doe, though, charmed the audience with her sailing operatic vocal prowess and steadfast commitment to articulating in a doll-like fashion, so much so that it was clear why even egotistical Ocean would want the poor, broken girl to live.
The actors played on a raked stage, enclosed by three rings of the “Cyclone” and flanked by two carnival booths. While the pieces created interesting stage pictures, they were not always highlighted in the best way. The production team should be given grace for producing their show in a new unfamiliar space. Yet, with neither of these flanking booths being lit well even when they were being used, with fun elements like the neon boards of the “Cyclone” that only glowed under the blacklight of the preshow, and with LED strip lights along the tracks that only shone for approximately ten seconds, one must wonder if the interesting tech elements were necessary or distracting.
With some note-worthy performances and a hopeful message, Truman State University’s production of “Ride the Cyclone” leaves tech-savvy theatre-goers with something to be desired, but perhaps an invitation to not focus on the details, but rather that “it’s just a ride.”
Gregory Jackson from Johnson County Community College
Written by Keenan Scott II, The Genius of Being Stupid is a mesmerizing show that’s evolved over its various showings at many acclaimed theaters. Running for seventy-five minutes without an intermission, this one-man show captivates its audiences through brilliant, vivid imagery that allows the audience to truly envision a fuller experience than what meets the bare eye. The show starts with Keenan describing life back in 1994, naming various hip-hop and rap artists who prompted his love for the arts.
As we continue, we learn more about Keenan’s experiences in school, including the social bias and shame that the boys of color had faced in their classes, like when these boys would be publicly told to leave their classroom and instead go to an isolated room for the special education kids. Another example of this discrimination was when Keenan describes finding a creative outlet through poetry, providing an example where a former teacher accused him of plagiarism when Keenan was unable to explain how he knew how to use various literary devices. We also hear Keenan describe how he got into doing poetry within the community after a move from Queen’s, New York to Southern Maryland, where he started attending a poetry event with his sister’s partner before eventually shifting the show to unveil how he tried again a few years later.
At this point, we got to see the show evolve truly into something remarkable. During his explanation of his improvement, any remaining house lights dimmed to add focus to Keenan’s elaborate poetry which remained as the highlight of the show for many audience members. Many likened the show to a stand-up comic’s sketch, being so succinct yet retaining the imaginative aspects that made watching so appealing to the audience.
Comparing The Genius of Being Stupid to other productions at the Kennedy Center American College Theater Festival offers some interesting variety. While, out of the shows, eachhad a unique challenge to take on: American Girl(s) dealt with a limited time frame of thirty minutes; Fuddy Meers had the challenge of having a fairly expansive set; Ride the Cyclone managed the challenging vocal range of the show; The Night Witches addressed the mostly minimal set. The Genius of Being Stupid assigns the challenge of performing an entire cast of characters to one actor.
In summary, The Genius of Being Stupid lets Keenan use poetry as a way of offering knowledge and uplifts certain topics such as racial discrimination, economic disparity, and overcoming self-doubt in one's abilities.
Written by Keenan Scott II, The Genius of Being Stupid is a mesmerizing show that’s evolved over its various showings at many acclaimed theaters. Running for seventy-five minutes without an intermission, this one-man show captivates its audiences through brilliant, vivid imagery that allows the audience to truly envision a fuller experience than what meets the bare eye. The show starts with Keenan describing life back in 1994, naming various hip-hop and rap artists who prompted his love for the arts.
As we continue, we learn more about Keenan’s experiences in school, including the social bias and shame that the boys of color had faced in their classes, like when these boys would be publicly told to leave their classroom and instead go to an isolated room for the special education kids. Another example of this discrimination was when Keenan describes finding a creative outlet through poetry, providing an example where a former teacher accused him of plagiarism when Keenan was unable to explain how he knew how to use various literary devices. We also hear Keenan describe how he got into doing poetry within the community after a move from Queen’s, New York to Southern Maryland, where he started attending a poetry event with his sister’s partner before eventually shifting the show to unveil how he tried again a few years later.
At this point, we got to see the show evolve truly into something remarkable. During his explanation of his improvement, any remaining house lights dimmed to add focus to Keenan’s elaborate poetry which remained as the highlight of the show for many audience members. Many likened the show to a stand-up comic’s sketch, being so succinct yet retaining the imaginative aspects that made watching so appealing to the audience.
Comparing The Genius of Being Stupid to other productions at the Kennedy Center American College Theater Festival offers some interesting variety. While, out of the shows, eachhad a unique challenge to take on: American Girl(s) dealt with a limited time frame of thirty minutes; Fuddy Meers had the challenge of having a fairly expansive set; Ride the Cyclone managed the challenging vocal range of the show; The Night Witches addressed the mostly minimal set. The Genius of Being Stupid assigns the challenge of performing an entire cast of characters to one actor.
In summary, The Genius of Being Stupid lets Keenan use poetry as a way of offering knowledge and uplifts certain topics such as racial discrimination, economic disparity, and overcoming self-doubt in one's abilities.
Julianne Johnston from Morningside University
The Genius of Being Stupid: A One-Man Show?
The Genius of Being Stupid. A solo show, one person. Or is it? The Genius of Being Stupid, directed by Brandon Riley, told the tale of Keenan Scott II’s youth from ages seven to eighteen. Serving as playwright and actor, Keenan Scott II delivered verse, lyrics, and poetry to a wide eyed audience who clung to his every word. The stories told ranged from discrimination in special education to fun times on the basketball court to the pain of lost loved ones.
Although Keenan Scott II is physically alone on stage there are many people present with him. On stage Scott is joined by his mother, father, sister, the mother of his childhood bully, slam poetry audience members, and countless other figures who impacted his life. Through his personification of these individuals Scott transforms himself from one individual alone on a sparsely covered stage to an individual surrounded by the spirits of transformative influences in his life.
Now, one might be thinking: how does he do it, is it the lighting, costumes, or props? The answer is his voice and physicality. Scott artfully and seamlessly molded himself into the individuals who impacted his development over the course of his youth. For the previously mentioned mother of the childhood bully he playfully pantomimed a cigarette, swung his hips back, and used a high pitched voice. In another instance, he portrayed his childhood friend rushing to his house to deliver condoms in a desperate time of need. To capture these characters' essences outside of his own Scott utilized his voice and accessed different rhythm, pitch, resonance and timbre. Combining this tactic with the positioning of his body proved to be successful.
Just like its playwright, The Genius of Being Stupid is not done growing. The show is still changing and developing as it goes through a workshop process. Scott notably shared at a Q and A that the production presented at the Kennedy Center American Collegiate Theatre Festival has already changed since he performed it at the University of Missouri in September. Scott also explained how over the years he has had to cut characters, sections of the script, and has added other characters and poetry to the show. Scott stated that “the goal of my work is empathy.” With each performance it seems clear that Scott is able to accomplish his goal.
Without Scott’s poetry there would have been no script to recite. But without his passion to fill the script with life through the creation of characters beyond his own inner monologue there would have been no show. So in the end, Scott was not alone on stage. With him he carried parts of others’ lives and the audience. There were no moments where Scott was alone. Even in moments of pure emotion, such as his love for his twelve-year-old girlfriend and him discovering the truth of Jacob’s death, he carried his poetry with him. The Genius of Being Stupid: a one man, multiple voices and bodies, one poetry show.
The Genius of Being Stupid: A One-Man Show?
The Genius of Being Stupid. A solo show, one person. Or is it? The Genius of Being Stupid, directed by Brandon Riley, told the tale of Keenan Scott II’s youth from ages seven to eighteen. Serving as playwright and actor, Keenan Scott II delivered verse, lyrics, and poetry to a wide eyed audience who clung to his every word. The stories told ranged from discrimination in special education to fun times on the basketball court to the pain of lost loved ones.
Although Keenan Scott II is physically alone on stage there are many people present with him. On stage Scott is joined by his mother, father, sister, the mother of his childhood bully, slam poetry audience members, and countless other figures who impacted his life. Through his personification of these individuals Scott transforms himself from one individual alone on a sparsely covered stage to an individual surrounded by the spirits of transformative influences in his life.
Now, one might be thinking: how does he do it, is it the lighting, costumes, or props? The answer is his voice and physicality. Scott artfully and seamlessly molded himself into the individuals who impacted his development over the course of his youth. For the previously mentioned mother of the childhood bully he playfully pantomimed a cigarette, swung his hips back, and used a high pitched voice. In another instance, he portrayed his childhood friend rushing to his house to deliver condoms in a desperate time of need. To capture these characters' essences outside of his own Scott utilized his voice and accessed different rhythm, pitch, resonance and timbre. Combining this tactic with the positioning of his body proved to be successful.
Just like its playwright, The Genius of Being Stupid is not done growing. The show is still changing and developing as it goes through a workshop process. Scott notably shared at a Q and A that the production presented at the Kennedy Center American Collegiate Theatre Festival has already changed since he performed it at the University of Missouri in September. Scott also explained how over the years he has had to cut characters, sections of the script, and has added other characters and poetry to the show. Scott stated that “the goal of my work is empathy.” With each performance it seems clear that Scott is able to accomplish his goal.
Without Scott’s poetry there would have been no script to recite. But without his passion to fill the script with life through the creation of characters beyond his own inner monologue there would have been no show. So in the end, Scott was not alone on stage. With him he carried parts of others’ lives and the audience. There were no moments where Scott was alone. Even in moments of pure emotion, such as his love for his twelve-year-old girlfriend and him discovering the truth of Jacob’s death, he carried his poetry with him. The Genius of Being Stupid: a one man, multiple voices and bodies, one poetry show.
Kieran Lombardfrom Winona State University
For the Motherland -The Night Witches
On Thursday, January 23rd, at 10 am, University of Northwestern (St. Paul) performed the play The Night Witches by Rachel Bublitz in the Stoner Theatre inside of the Des Moines Civic Center. This play is part of the productions chosen to be performed for the KCACTF Region 5 festival held from January 19th to January 25th in 2025. The play is based on the real
life ‘Nachthexen’ (Night witches in German), which were Russian women who flew Po-2s, very flammable planes, and dropped bombs on German troops in the dead of night in WW2.
The play had a very large cast, with 16 cast members, all of them portraying these Night Witches, and their efforts against the Nazi Regime in WW2. The cast was made up of
Aliana Posavad, who played Alexandra
Abigail Marshall, who played Irina
Olivia Lundberg, who played Marta
Kylie Schumacher, who played Nina
Sarah Gullickson, who played Polina
Joylee Christensen, who played Raisa
Belle Waggoner, who played Serafima
Lindsey Fields, who played Tatyana
Ava Hunter, who played Valentina
Ellie Row, who played Vera
And Kaylee Selin, who played Zoya.
There was also an ensemble made up of Sophia Danielson, Kaila Fremling, Finley Gustafson, Ella Kjelshus, and Audrey Waggoner.
The beginning of the show acted as if it was a documentary -talking about the woman who created the bomber regime in real life -Marina Raskova. Then, you’re pulled into the lives of these women. They made needlepoint designs upon rags that were shoved into their too-large boots, worried about their curls like the war wasn’t happening around them, and danced about without a care in the world. But then, you’re introduced to the two ‘main’ girls in the story. Nina and Vera (played by Schumacher and Row). Nina and Vera were working as mechanics on the Po-2s, and had just been promoted to navigators for the pilots of the Po-2s. Nina was a bit nervous, but Vera was terrified, she had so many doubts, and seemed to have wanted to stay behind and work on the planes.
The visuals of the planes were created by the girls in the show, as well as brooms, pieces of canvas tied to the brooms, and everyday objects -like a cane for the propeller, and a bench as the bulk of the plane.
A projection was used in the background to show where the girls were, what they imagined, and what happened as these planes flew in the air. The use of spotlights and fog machines as the cloud cover was just fantastic.
The part that really sold the show was the strength of the girls in the show. Some girls were lifted up as they acted as planes, or inside a plane, or even when towards the end of the show, some of these ships exploded. It must have taken a lot of work to get the strength to carry their fellow actresses in that show, and that is very admirable.
The amazing visuals and the celebration of the lives that were lost fighting the Nazi Regime really brings all the emotions to the forefront while watching the show.
The Night Witches was performed three times for the KCACTF Region 5 show. Once on Wednesday, January 22nd at 5pm, and twice on Thursday, January 23rd -at 10 am and at 1pm.
For the Motherland -The Night Witches
On Thursday, January 23rd, at 10 am, University of Northwestern (St. Paul) performed the play The Night Witches by Rachel Bublitz in the Stoner Theatre inside of the Des Moines Civic Center. This play is part of the productions chosen to be performed for the KCACTF Region 5 festival held from January 19th to January 25th in 2025. The play is based on the real
life ‘Nachthexen’ (Night witches in German), which were Russian women who flew Po-2s, very flammable planes, and dropped bombs on German troops in the dead of night in WW2.
The play had a very large cast, with 16 cast members, all of them portraying these Night Witches, and their efforts against the Nazi Regime in WW2. The cast was made up of
Aliana Posavad, who played Alexandra
Abigail Marshall, who played Irina
Olivia Lundberg, who played Marta
Kylie Schumacher, who played Nina
Sarah Gullickson, who played Polina
Joylee Christensen, who played Raisa
Belle Waggoner, who played Serafima
Lindsey Fields, who played Tatyana
Ava Hunter, who played Valentina
Ellie Row, who played Vera
And Kaylee Selin, who played Zoya.
There was also an ensemble made up of Sophia Danielson, Kaila Fremling, Finley Gustafson, Ella Kjelshus, and Audrey Waggoner.
The beginning of the show acted as if it was a documentary -talking about the woman who created the bomber regime in real life -Marina Raskova. Then, you’re pulled into the lives of these women. They made needlepoint designs upon rags that were shoved into their too-large boots, worried about their curls like the war wasn’t happening around them, and danced about without a care in the world. But then, you’re introduced to the two ‘main’ girls in the story. Nina and Vera (played by Schumacher and Row). Nina and Vera were working as mechanics on the Po-2s, and had just been promoted to navigators for the pilots of the Po-2s. Nina was a bit nervous, but Vera was terrified, she had so many doubts, and seemed to have wanted to stay behind and work on the planes.
The visuals of the planes were created by the girls in the show, as well as brooms, pieces of canvas tied to the brooms, and everyday objects -like a cane for the propeller, and a bench as the bulk of the plane.
A projection was used in the background to show where the girls were, what they imagined, and what happened as these planes flew in the air. The use of spotlights and fog machines as the cloud cover was just fantastic.
The part that really sold the show was the strength of the girls in the show. Some girls were lifted up as they acted as planes, or inside a plane, or even when towards the end of the show, some of these ships exploded. It must have taken a lot of work to get the strength to carry their fellow actresses in that show, and that is very admirable.
The amazing visuals and the celebration of the lives that were lost fighting the Nazi Regime really brings all the emotions to the forefront while watching the show.
The Night Witches was performed three times for the KCACTF Region 5 show. Once on Wednesday, January 22nd at 5pm, and twice on Thursday, January 23rd -at 10 am and at 1pm.
Kyra Visserfrom Northwestern College
Fuddy Meers –A Comedy or a Tragedy?
On January 21, 2025, SDSU’s Theatre and Dance department put on Fuddy Meers at the Region 5 Kennedy Center American College Theatre Festival. The audience is surprised when the large, two-story tall set opens to reveal separate rooms, similar to a dollhouse. Each room had detailed decorations and props that made it truly feel as if it truly was a house that simply got moved onto a stage. Throughout the show, the rooms are opened one at a time by run crew dressed as if they came straight from a circus. The lights first come up on a man and a woman in a tiny second floor bedroom. It is very quickly realized that this woman, Claire, has amnesia and relies solely on a book her husband made for her to remember her life. However, as the audience soon figures out, characters in this story are not at as they seem.
While this production was a roller coaster of sorts, it could be related closer to the amusement park ride “The Wild Mouse”. Rather than ups and downs, the rider is constantly being jerked around multiple sharp turns in all directions. The chaos caused the audience to become tangled the confusion along with Claire, but it also caused important aspects to be missed. The energy level was at a constant 10 throughout the whole show and the deeper meaning was lost as a result. This play comes along with a load of heavy topics such as domestic violence, mental illness, and abandonment. The main themes got lost easily in all the jokes and confusion. The actors didn’t let the key lines linger before they moved on to the next event. Had the music not been played right away after the final line was said, there would have been crying. It felt as if the intent was to laugh at people’s trauma rather than bring to light a real issue in today’s world.
On the other hand, from both the playwright and in the director’s statement, it was made clear to them that this play was meant to be comedic, and the performance on the 21st fulfilled that purpose. A talkative character, Millet, had a puppet through which he was able to speak his mind. While the puppet was hard to understand at times, it brought a side of craziness into the conversation. The choreography added to the comedic aspect as well. Some examples include multiples characters becoming tangled up into the phone cord,characters popping up from random areas around the set, upbeat music being played during fight scenes, the run crew themselves having their own storyline while changing the set, and much more.
The real question then is, should Fuddy Meers only be a comedy, or would it fare better as a tragedy? Better yet: a dramedy? In my opinion, the sole purpose of laughing at the situation of a character who has been consistently lied to and abused, does not make for a good show, nor does it make us as the audience any better people. While it is fun to laugh, real people deal with situations such as these and Fuddy Meers seems to ignore the problem for the sole purpose of entertainment.
Fuddy Meers –A Comedy or a Tragedy?
On January 21, 2025, SDSU’s Theatre and Dance department put on Fuddy Meers at the Region 5 Kennedy Center American College Theatre Festival. The audience is surprised when the large, two-story tall set opens to reveal separate rooms, similar to a dollhouse. Each room had detailed decorations and props that made it truly feel as if it truly was a house that simply got moved onto a stage. Throughout the show, the rooms are opened one at a time by run crew dressed as if they came straight from a circus. The lights first come up on a man and a woman in a tiny second floor bedroom. It is very quickly realized that this woman, Claire, has amnesia and relies solely on a book her husband made for her to remember her life. However, as the audience soon figures out, characters in this story are not at as they seem.
While this production was a roller coaster of sorts, it could be related closer to the amusement park ride “The Wild Mouse”. Rather than ups and downs, the rider is constantly being jerked around multiple sharp turns in all directions. The chaos caused the audience to become tangled the confusion along with Claire, but it also caused important aspects to be missed. The energy level was at a constant 10 throughout the whole show and the deeper meaning was lost as a result. This play comes along with a load of heavy topics such as domestic violence, mental illness, and abandonment. The main themes got lost easily in all the jokes and confusion. The actors didn’t let the key lines linger before they moved on to the next event. Had the music not been played right away after the final line was said, there would have been crying. It felt as if the intent was to laugh at people’s trauma rather than bring to light a real issue in today’s world.
On the other hand, from both the playwright and in the director’s statement, it was made clear to them that this play was meant to be comedic, and the performance on the 21st fulfilled that purpose. A talkative character, Millet, had a puppet through which he was able to speak his mind. While the puppet was hard to understand at times, it brought a side of craziness into the conversation. The choreography added to the comedic aspect as well. Some examples include multiples characters becoming tangled up into the phone cord,characters popping up from random areas around the set, upbeat music being played during fight scenes, the run crew themselves having their own storyline while changing the set, and much more.
The real question then is, should Fuddy Meers only be a comedy, or would it fare better as a tragedy? Better yet: a dramedy? In my opinion, the sole purpose of laughing at the situation of a character who has been consistently lied to and abused, does not make for a good show, nor does it make us as the audience any better people. While it is fun to laugh, real people deal with situations such as these and Fuddy Meers seems to ignore the problem for the sole purpose of entertainment.
Marika Moore from Dordt University
Fuddy Meers: A Wild Ride
What do you get when you cross a comedy about distorted pasts with domestic abuse and gaslighting? Fuddy Meers.
South Dakota State University’s production of Fuddy Meers, directed by W. James Wood, returned to the stage at the prestigious Kennedy Center American College Theater Festival this week.
In Pulitzer Prize-winner David Lindsay-Abaire’s breakout farce, a middle-aged woman named Claire (Claire Booth) suffers from psychogenic amnesia and awakens each morning as a blank slate for her “husband” Richard (Gerrit VonEye) to write upon. The story follows Claire as she is caught in the whirlwind of the limping, lisping man who claims to be her brother (Jacob Stevens), Kenny, the stoner son (Alex Strawn), Gertie, the mother with a stroke-induced speech impediment (Morgan Foote), and Millet, the aspiring zookeeper with a foul-mouthed puppet for an alter-ego (Carl Steinlicht).
The gruesome details of Claire’s past are revealed exclusively through her distorted lens. As Claire rightly concludes, “This is very strange.”
The foundation on which the play stands is precarious, though. What begins as a goofy comedy suddenly becomes a farce of domestic abuse and manipulation. The comedic timing of its actors is laudable, but deriving humor from such serious topics may be a bit too dark, especially without an opportunity for the audience to really take in what is happening. And between Gertie’s aphasia and the Limping Man’s lisp, much of the crucial dialogue is unintelligible.
However, most of the actors’ performances were of professional caliber. Booth shines on stage as Claire, from her complete confusion throughout the first act, to the emotional revelations of the second. VonEye, as Richard, gives the play its share of witty banter, and Strawn’s drugged-up Kenny is unexpectedly moving. As for Steinlicht, all that can be said is that his portrayal of Millet (and, of course, the hand puppet Hinky Binky), deserved the whoops and cheers from the audience.
The unique, gargantuan set, designed by Jacee Casarella, is what solidifies SDSU’s production of Fuddy Meers as one of KCACTF Region 5’s most memorable performances. What appears to be the plain outside of a house unfolds and
deconstructs into the second-story bedroom of one house, the kitchen and basement of another, and even a car.
An acrobatic stage crew dominates the audience’s attention, if only for a few minutes between each scene, as they transform the set in the style of carnival performers. All this to say, the scene transitions almost distract from the chaos of the play.
As Claire’s past, rife with lethal accidents, and mental and physical abuse, is revealed to the audience, it becomes difficult to root for any of the characters. There are those to hate, but few to love.
Try to figure out the plot twists, try to solve the mysteries, but to fully enjoy Fuddy Meers, one cannot think too much about it. When the curtain falls, though, there is nothing more to be said than that Fuddy Meers is a wild ride.
Fuddy Meers: A Wild Ride
What do you get when you cross a comedy about distorted pasts with domestic abuse and gaslighting? Fuddy Meers.
South Dakota State University’s production of Fuddy Meers, directed by W. James Wood, returned to the stage at the prestigious Kennedy Center American College Theater Festival this week.
In Pulitzer Prize-winner David Lindsay-Abaire’s breakout farce, a middle-aged woman named Claire (Claire Booth) suffers from psychogenic amnesia and awakens each morning as a blank slate for her “husband” Richard (Gerrit VonEye) to write upon. The story follows Claire as she is caught in the whirlwind of the limping, lisping man who claims to be her brother (Jacob Stevens), Kenny, the stoner son (Alex Strawn), Gertie, the mother with a stroke-induced speech impediment (Morgan Foote), and Millet, the aspiring zookeeper with a foul-mouthed puppet for an alter-ego (Carl Steinlicht).
The gruesome details of Claire’s past are revealed exclusively through her distorted lens. As Claire rightly concludes, “This is very strange.”
The foundation on which the play stands is precarious, though. What begins as a goofy comedy suddenly becomes a farce of domestic abuse and manipulation. The comedic timing of its actors is laudable, but deriving humor from such serious topics may be a bit too dark, especially without an opportunity for the audience to really take in what is happening. And between Gertie’s aphasia and the Limping Man’s lisp, much of the crucial dialogue is unintelligible.
However, most of the actors’ performances were of professional caliber. Booth shines on stage as Claire, from her complete confusion throughout the first act, to the emotional revelations of the second. VonEye, as Richard, gives the play its share of witty banter, and Strawn’s drugged-up Kenny is unexpectedly moving. As for Steinlicht, all that can be said is that his portrayal of Millet (and, of course, the hand puppet Hinky Binky), deserved the whoops and cheers from the audience.
The unique, gargantuan set, designed by Jacee Casarella, is what solidifies SDSU’s production of Fuddy Meers as one of KCACTF Region 5’s most memorable performances. What appears to be the plain outside of a house unfolds and
deconstructs into the second-story bedroom of one house, the kitchen and basement of another, and even a car.
An acrobatic stage crew dominates the audience’s attention, if only for a few minutes between each scene, as they transform the set in the style of carnival performers. All this to say, the scene transitions almost distract from the chaos of the play.
As Claire’s past, rife with lethal accidents, and mental and physical abuse, is revealed to the audience, it becomes difficult to root for any of the characters. There are those to hate, but few to love.
Try to figure out the plot twists, try to solve the mysteries, but to fully enjoy Fuddy Meers, one cannot think too much about it. When the curtain falls, though, there is nothing more to be said than that Fuddy Meers is a wild ride.
Marissa Leraas from Northwestern College
Review: Joan Korte Aims her Rifle at ‘The Gull’ – is it a hit or a miss?
In this brilliant new adaptation, Joan Korte takes on this twist of Anton Chekhov’s classic play, The Seagull. Containing all the details of Chekhov’s original disconsolate script, The Gull, by Zachary Cohn, is a show with a run time of an hour and a half, written for just one player.
Even moments before Korte entered the stage, the audience’s attention was caught. Adaptable for whatever playing space she would be in – today, in a hotel conference room – the set was minimal, but effective. Five black cubes littered the space, as well as three chairs on deck, off to the side, and a small table containing the props that Korte would use throughout the production. Each set piece seemed to be simply whatever object would work best. There was no work done to them. They were there for necessity, not for theatricality.
Finally, Korte took the stage. Lighting, too, was minimal. Partially because of the hotel conference room stage. Here, often the most lighting that can be achieved is lights up and then down. Arguably, however, the lighting worked to serve the story very effectively, and remarkably in tune with the set, as the minimalism allowed the audience to see the story for all that it is. As Korte crossed downstage, to where she would begin the performance, the lights slowly dimmed – never going fully to black – and waited for her go-ahead to begin their ascent once more. Perhaps in this segment, it is worthwhile to note that the only sound heard in that conference room was the many theatrical voices accomplished by Korte… and the pounding of a Suzuki Viewpoints workshop next door.
Upon taking my seat, I will admit, I was skeptical. While I consider myself familiar with Chekhov, and especially his play, The Seagull, I worried about keeping up with the character ties and storyline as the nine prominent characters of the production would all be played by one woman. However, Korte never allowed this to happen. Following the structure of the script, Korte voiced a narrator, in what one would assume to be her natural voice. Then, as narrator, she would introduce each individual character, adopting a new voice or accent for each one. More impressive than her ability to create individuality through voice was her ability to maintain it. Often when a new character began speaking, I was able to tell who it was before the narrator
even clarified. Dressed rather plainly in browns and creams, Korte was able to shift from character to character with the mere efforts of her voice.
After about half an hour, the audience begins to worry for the high achieving Korte. Just when you begin to really beg, on her behalf, for an intermission, she breaks out of her Chekhov-given character and speaks as the narrator again. She dictates that it is now the end of act 1 and hums a tune while she sets the scene for act 2. While it is not the full fifteen minutes that would be well-earned to mark the end of an act for Korte, it gives her a moment to recollect, grab a sip of water, and mentally reconvene before beginning another segment of the production.
Nearly two hours later, the audience watches, with subtle clouding by tears, as Korte wraps up her one-woman accomplishment. There she stands, in the corner of the room, holding the collection of Constantine’s scripts, and she ceremoniously throws them in the air in a heart-wrenching final moment. The audience is astounded by her strength to complete this harrowing play alone, and they stand in awe – as affected by the story told by one singular player, as they would be with any other format in which you can find Chekhov.
Joan Korte’s powerful take on Chekhov’s The Seagull – adapted to be The Gull – approaches the audience as a comedy but sticks with them as a dramatic piece on the complexity of the human condition… and the stamina of a one-woman performer. Korte takes her aim at The Seagull. Both literally and metaphorically, it is a hit.
Review: Joan Korte Aims her Rifle at ‘The Gull’ – is it a hit or a miss?
In this brilliant new adaptation, Joan Korte takes on this twist of Anton Chekhov’s classic play, The Seagull. Containing all the details of Chekhov’s original disconsolate script, The Gull, by Zachary Cohn, is a show with a run time of an hour and a half, written for just one player.
Even moments before Korte entered the stage, the audience’s attention was caught. Adaptable for whatever playing space she would be in – today, in a hotel conference room – the set was minimal, but effective. Five black cubes littered the space, as well as three chairs on deck, off to the side, and a small table containing the props that Korte would use throughout the production. Each set piece seemed to be simply whatever object would work best. There was no work done to them. They were there for necessity, not for theatricality.
Finally, Korte took the stage. Lighting, too, was minimal. Partially because of the hotel conference room stage. Here, often the most lighting that can be achieved is lights up and then down. Arguably, however, the lighting worked to serve the story very effectively, and remarkably in tune with the set, as the minimalism allowed the audience to see the story for all that it is. As Korte crossed downstage, to where she would begin the performance, the lights slowly dimmed – never going fully to black – and waited for her go-ahead to begin their ascent once more. Perhaps in this segment, it is worthwhile to note that the only sound heard in that conference room was the many theatrical voices accomplished by Korte… and the pounding of a Suzuki Viewpoints workshop next door.
Upon taking my seat, I will admit, I was skeptical. While I consider myself familiar with Chekhov, and especially his play, The Seagull, I worried about keeping up with the character ties and storyline as the nine prominent characters of the production would all be played by one woman. However, Korte never allowed this to happen. Following the structure of the script, Korte voiced a narrator, in what one would assume to be her natural voice. Then, as narrator, she would introduce each individual character, adopting a new voice or accent for each one. More impressive than her ability to create individuality through voice was her ability to maintain it. Often when a new character began speaking, I was able to tell who it was before the narrator
even clarified. Dressed rather plainly in browns and creams, Korte was able to shift from character to character with the mere efforts of her voice.
After about half an hour, the audience begins to worry for the high achieving Korte. Just when you begin to really beg, on her behalf, for an intermission, she breaks out of her Chekhov-given character and speaks as the narrator again. She dictates that it is now the end of act 1 and hums a tune while she sets the scene for act 2. While it is not the full fifteen minutes that would be well-earned to mark the end of an act for Korte, it gives her a moment to recollect, grab a sip of water, and mentally reconvene before beginning another segment of the production.
Nearly two hours later, the audience watches, with subtle clouding by tears, as Korte wraps up her one-woman accomplishment. There she stands, in the corner of the room, holding the collection of Constantine’s scripts, and she ceremoniously throws them in the air in a heart-wrenching final moment. The audience is astounded by her strength to complete this harrowing play alone, and they stand in awe – as affected by the story told by one singular player, as they would be with any other format in which you can find Chekhov.
Joan Korte’s powerful take on Chekhov’s The Seagull – adapted to be The Gull – approaches the audience as a comedy but sticks with them as a dramatic piece on the complexity of the human condition… and the stamina of a one-woman performer. Korte takes her aim at The Seagull. Both literally and metaphorically, it is a hit.
Noah Panjada from Johnson County Community College
Review of American Girl(s)
The University of Missouri’s production of American Girl(s), a one-act play written by MU student Abby Uphoff, explores grief, girlhood, and the elusive American Dream. Directed by Kasey Lynch, this thought-provoking piece brings humor, heartbreak, and political commentary onto the stage in a way that feels deeply relevant to today’s cultural landscape.
The play centers around two characters: MJ, played by Mia Watkins, a 19-year-old young woman wrestling with frustration over the American Dream's empty promises, and Molly, played by Jenna Soltis, a personified American Girl Doll acting as an unexpected voice of wisdom and action that helps MJ on her journey with grief. Together, the two women navigate questions about what it means to come of age as an "American girl" in a world that's most often stacked against them.
The thing that makes American Girl(s) great is its delicate balance between humor and heartbreak. MJ's grief for her deceased mother and frustration at the forced patriotism of the Fourth of July are raw, while Molly's nearly animated personality. These were moments between the two characters, switching from tense standoffs to real moments of affection, a part that worked out as a microcosm of more broadened societal struggles, including women's rights to the tussle between individual aspirations and systemic restraint.
Visually, the production is full of smart uses of symbolism to underscore its themes: there's an American Girl Doll symbol that will be attached to MJ and her mom's nostalgia throughout the show. The set is minimal, yet powerful, conveying limitations and expansiveness of possibility within MJ's world; lighting subtly shifts to undergird critical emotional beats, utilities, gobos, lights, and sound to have the sound of fireworks shooting in the air.
Performances are fantastic from the cast. The actors playing MJ and Molly bring a realness, humor, and even vulnerability to their characters. Mia Watkins made MJ's moments of anger and despair both painful and powerful, while Molly played Jenna Soltis, who had optimism that provided a sharp contrast, creating a dynamic and engaging push-pull relationship between the characters.
Beyond its emotional depth, American Girl(s) feels especially timely. Nodding toward healthcare, capitalism, and the role of women in America, this play forces one to question the myths we've been told about the so-called American Dream. As MJ is a symbol of hollowness in patriotism, quoting Molly, "Not being brave is what being brave is," this makes for one very important question within the production: How can we balance our weight of grief with the hope needed for progress?
American Girls aren't so much a play but rather a mirror held to our society, our failures, our potential. It's a reminder that Molly says, "American Girls really do just grow up to be American Girls," which isn't stopping any of them from changing the world.
Review of American Girl(s)
The University of Missouri’s production of American Girl(s), a one-act play written by MU student Abby Uphoff, explores grief, girlhood, and the elusive American Dream. Directed by Kasey Lynch, this thought-provoking piece brings humor, heartbreak, and political commentary onto the stage in a way that feels deeply relevant to today’s cultural landscape.
The play centers around two characters: MJ, played by Mia Watkins, a 19-year-old young woman wrestling with frustration over the American Dream's empty promises, and Molly, played by Jenna Soltis, a personified American Girl Doll acting as an unexpected voice of wisdom and action that helps MJ on her journey with grief. Together, the two women navigate questions about what it means to come of age as an "American girl" in a world that's most often stacked against them.
The thing that makes American Girl(s) great is its delicate balance between humor and heartbreak. MJ's grief for her deceased mother and frustration at the forced patriotism of the Fourth of July are raw, while Molly's nearly animated personality. These were moments between the two characters, switching from tense standoffs to real moments of affection, a part that worked out as a microcosm of more broadened societal struggles, including women's rights to the tussle between individual aspirations and systemic restraint.
Visually, the production is full of smart uses of symbolism to underscore its themes: there's an American Girl Doll symbol that will be attached to MJ and her mom's nostalgia throughout the show. The set is minimal, yet powerful, conveying limitations and expansiveness of possibility within MJ's world; lighting subtly shifts to undergird critical emotional beats, utilities, gobos, lights, and sound to have the sound of fireworks shooting in the air.
Performances are fantastic from the cast. The actors playing MJ and Molly bring a realness, humor, and even vulnerability to their characters. Mia Watkins made MJ's moments of anger and despair both painful and powerful, while Molly played Jenna Soltis, who had optimism that provided a sharp contrast, creating a dynamic and engaging push-pull relationship between the characters.
Beyond its emotional depth, American Girl(s) feels especially timely. Nodding toward healthcare, capitalism, and the role of women in America, this play forces one to question the myths we've been told about the so-called American Dream. As MJ is a symbol of hollowness in patriotism, quoting Molly, "Not being brave is what being brave is," this makes for one very important question within the production: How can we balance our weight of grief with the hope needed for progress?
American Girls aren't so much a play but rather a mirror held to our society, our failures, our potential. It's a reminder that Molly says, "American Girls really do just grow up to be American Girls," which isn't stopping any of them from changing the world.
Payton Bergman from the University of North Dakota
Inaugural Performance Packs a Punch
“Not being brave is what being brave is.” This wisdom from a nine-year-old doll rang through the Civic Center Stoner Theatre on January 20, 2025. President Donald Trump has just been sworn into office. The audience quiets for a moment. So many people in that room are uncertain how their life is about to change. Plastering on a brave face on the outside, while feeling anything but on the inside.
“American Girl(s),” written by Abaigeal G. Uphoff from the University of Missouri, is the story of a 19-year-old girl named MJ (Mia Watkins) who has recently lost her aunt and is processing that loss at a grief camp. After completing an assignment to write a letter to her American Girl Doll, Molly (Jenna Soltis), MJ throws it into the fire. Somehow, this action brings Molly to life and the two of them work through what it means to be an “American girl”.
Stylistically and aesthetically, this production was rather simple. The soft sound and lighting design allowed the focus to remain on the actors. The set was well utilized without being overpowering. Additionally, the thrust space brought the audience deeper into the show and forced a more personal outlook to be taken. The actors were clearly well rehearsed and embodied their characters to the fullest extent of the word.
However, the standout element of this production was how much the script was able to shine. It was only a 35-minute play, so every word was crucial. There were no throwaway lines, and every line packed a punch. MJ’s dry humor was a deep contrast to Molly’s supposed naivety, and it led to conversations that left the audience in stitches. However, it is soon discovered that Molly has a lot more going on than meets the eye.
Without revealing too much, Molly is struggling with what it means to be alive at the same time as the life-changing conflict that was World War II. She channels emotion into doing everything that she can to help the war effort, including selling war stamps and collecting bottle caps. She is MJ’s foil, as MJ takes out her frustration on the world around her, and is vocal about dismantling the system that she was hurt by. To each of them, the American flag means two very different things. Molly still looks to the flag with a sense of reverence, whereas MJ sees it as a tool of hurt.
Both Molly's and MJ’s stories are fiercely relatable today. Millions of families across the country feel what Molly does. Fear for their loved ones overseas, anxious about the future of those soldiers still on home soil. Being brave is often an act and one that can only be held together for so long. MJ, on the other hand, is struggling to mask her anger. The financial demographics and healthcare system in the United States took her aunt’s life. Neither one of them knows what to do.
Inaugural Performance Packs a Punch
“Not being brave is what being brave is.” This wisdom from a nine-year-old doll rang through the Civic Center Stoner Theatre on January 20, 2025. President Donald Trump has just been sworn into office. The audience quiets for a moment. So many people in that room are uncertain how their life is about to change. Plastering on a brave face on the outside, while feeling anything but on the inside.
“American Girl(s),” written by Abaigeal G. Uphoff from the University of Missouri, is the story of a 19-year-old girl named MJ (Mia Watkins) who has recently lost her aunt and is processing that loss at a grief camp. After completing an assignment to write a letter to her American Girl Doll, Molly (Jenna Soltis), MJ throws it into the fire. Somehow, this action brings Molly to life and the two of them work through what it means to be an “American girl”.
Stylistically and aesthetically, this production was rather simple. The soft sound and lighting design allowed the focus to remain on the actors. The set was well utilized without being overpowering. Additionally, the thrust space brought the audience deeper into the show and forced a more personal outlook to be taken. The actors were clearly well rehearsed and embodied their characters to the fullest extent of the word.
However, the standout element of this production was how much the script was able to shine. It was only a 35-minute play, so every word was crucial. There were no throwaway lines, and every line packed a punch. MJ’s dry humor was a deep contrast to Molly’s supposed naivety, and it led to conversations that left the audience in stitches. However, it is soon discovered that Molly has a lot more going on than meets the eye.
Without revealing too much, Molly is struggling with what it means to be alive at the same time as the life-changing conflict that was World War II. She channels emotion into doing everything that she can to help the war effort, including selling war stamps and collecting bottle caps. She is MJ’s foil, as MJ takes out her frustration on the world around her, and is vocal about dismantling the system that she was hurt by. To each of them, the American flag means two very different things. Molly still looks to the flag with a sense of reverence, whereas MJ sees it as a tool of hurt.
Both Molly's and MJ’s stories are fiercely relatable today. Millions of families across the country feel what Molly does. Fear for their loved ones overseas, anxious about the future of those soldiers still on home soil. Being brave is often an act and one that can only be held together for so long. MJ, on the other hand, is struggling to mask her anger. The financial demographics and healthcare system in the United States took her aunt’s life. Neither one of them knows what to do.
Sara Gushuefrom Benedictine College
Fuddy Meers: A Merely Funny Play
"That dog is a fat hunk of sh**!” Kenny screamed, launching the audience into riotous laughter. On January 21, 2025, the Hoyt Sherman Place filled with theatre artists excited to see South Dakota State University’s production of the comedy “Fuddy Meers” by David Lindsay-Abaire. Chosen as one of the Invited Productions for the Kennedy Center American College Theatre Festival Region 5, “Fuddy Meers” sought to tackle tough issues through an absurd lens.
According to SDSU, “Fuddy Meers” is a production in their freedom-themed theatre season. In the play, Claire (Claire Booth), an amnesiac, is abducted by the Limping Man (Jacob Stevens) who claims to be saving her from her murderous husband. As someone who forgets each day and wakes up with no memory, Claire depends on those around her to guide and inform her. After gathering with an eclectic crew of characters, Claire uncovers revealing truths about her past. The play tries to lighten serious topics like domestic abuse with a farcical style. However, the script undermined its attempts to encourage dialogue. In a show that supposedly champions women empowerment, none of the female characters make a powerful choice.
The show seemed to lack a unified artistic vision to guide the designers. In his director’s note, W. James Wood said, “The style of this play, Wonky Realism, is an artistic style that creates a space that is neither completely realistic nor cartoon-like, but rather a surreal and realistic hybrid.” Unfortunately, the show does not commit to this style, resulting in a disjointed collection of design choices that take the audience out of the world. While it is possible that the confusion of the design elements was intentional, the design was not effective in communicating an idea of uncertain, spontaneous life. For example, Claire and Gertie (Morgan Foote) fluctuate in and out of Southern accents, use words like “Mama”, and wear pastel florals in the style of the 70s. However, the setting created by those characters contradicts the costumes and diction of other characters like the Limping Man and Kenny.
The script itself seemed unsure of what genre it wanted to be. Act 1 made repetitive jokes, while Act 2 gave heartfelt moments. The actors adjusted their characterization to fit the current genre. Alex Strawn, who played Claire’s son Kenny, quickly shifted from angsty teenager to scared child while maintaining the character’s physicality and motivation. Gerrit VonEye’s Richard remained the most consistent between acts, always playing the uncanny, overly friendly stepfather. While it is hard to distinguish underwritten characters from uncertain choices, it seemed that the other characters, including Claire, felt flippant and like plot devices rather than people.
Although the script fails to create dynamic characters, it does achieve its goal of making the audience laugh. The absurd, loud bits were funny, if base level humor. I laughed at the jokes, but the distracting design prevented me from connecting with the script on a deeper level. The script has potential to be impactful and provoking, but it relegates itself to a comedic corner.
Fuddy Meers: A Merely Funny Play
"That dog is a fat hunk of sh**!” Kenny screamed, launching the audience into riotous laughter. On January 21, 2025, the Hoyt Sherman Place filled with theatre artists excited to see South Dakota State University’s production of the comedy “Fuddy Meers” by David Lindsay-Abaire. Chosen as one of the Invited Productions for the Kennedy Center American College Theatre Festival Region 5, “Fuddy Meers” sought to tackle tough issues through an absurd lens.
According to SDSU, “Fuddy Meers” is a production in their freedom-themed theatre season. In the play, Claire (Claire Booth), an amnesiac, is abducted by the Limping Man (Jacob Stevens) who claims to be saving her from her murderous husband. As someone who forgets each day and wakes up with no memory, Claire depends on those around her to guide and inform her. After gathering with an eclectic crew of characters, Claire uncovers revealing truths about her past. The play tries to lighten serious topics like domestic abuse with a farcical style. However, the script undermined its attempts to encourage dialogue. In a show that supposedly champions women empowerment, none of the female characters make a powerful choice.
The show seemed to lack a unified artistic vision to guide the designers. In his director’s note, W. James Wood said, “The style of this play, Wonky Realism, is an artistic style that creates a space that is neither completely realistic nor cartoon-like, but rather a surreal and realistic hybrid.” Unfortunately, the show does not commit to this style, resulting in a disjointed collection of design choices that take the audience out of the world. While it is possible that the confusion of the design elements was intentional, the design was not effective in communicating an idea of uncertain, spontaneous life. For example, Claire and Gertie (Morgan Foote) fluctuate in and out of Southern accents, use words like “Mama”, and wear pastel florals in the style of the 70s. However, the setting created by those characters contradicts the costumes and diction of other characters like the Limping Man and Kenny.
The script itself seemed unsure of what genre it wanted to be. Act 1 made repetitive jokes, while Act 2 gave heartfelt moments. The actors adjusted their characterization to fit the current genre. Alex Strawn, who played Claire’s son Kenny, quickly shifted from angsty teenager to scared child while maintaining the character’s physicality and motivation. Gerrit VonEye’s Richard remained the most consistent between acts, always playing the uncanny, overly friendly stepfather. While it is hard to distinguish underwritten characters from uncertain choices, it seemed that the other characters, including Claire, felt flippant and like plot devices rather than people.
Although the script fails to create dynamic characters, it does achieve its goal of making the audience laugh. The absurd, loud bits were funny, if base level humor. I laughed at the jokes, but the distracting design prevented me from connecting with the script on a deeper level. The script has potential to be impactful and provoking, but it relegates itself to a comedic corner.