Theatre L'Acadie describes The Swan as a psychosexual fever dream. It is that, but there is more simmering beneath the murky surface. Playwright Elizabeth Egloff's play takes place in Nebraska adding another level of weirdness to the mix. Dora Hand is played with a charming quirkiness by Brandi Champagne. Dora is a nurse who has been through three husbands, hates her job and is depressed about life in general.
Her house is a mess with clothes strewn about, and no real food other than a three-day-old pizza. and, of course, milk. Dora is involved with her married milkman Kevin (Jordan Gleaves) who belittles her and criticizes her housekeeping. Still the same, he wants her to quit her job so that he can take care of her and have more control. Greaves portrays the doltish Kevin using emotional blackmail and pointing out how much she owes him for the milk he delivers every day.
Dora watches bland talk shows on an anachronistic laptop, sleeps too much, and skips work. While she is sleeping, a swan (Kevin Blair) crashes through a window in her house. Blair's depiction of the swan named Bill is tremendous and one of the best portrayals of anthropomorphism I have seen on the stage. His physicality is amazing, spending most of his entrance in a yoga child's pose. Blair is endearing as the confused and bedraggled cygnet who may have gotten lost in a weather pattern.
Nebraska is portrayed as a place of smothering blandness where nothing happens. A cygnet swan showing up in winter would be a big deal. Kevin is jealous that Dora is taking care of this wayward bird who evolves to the point where Kevin demands that he and Dora see a marriage counselor. He is reminded that he is already married with a kid but is self-centered and wants more than he has. No beat-up swan is going to take Dora's attention away.
This play has facets that twirled in my head for a while. There is the Greek myth Leda and the Swan and the Yeats poem of the same name. Zeus takes on the form of a swan to rape and possess Leda, who gives birth to Helen of Troy. Yeats writes of it as a seduction and metaphor for the English in Ireland. There is also the Judeo-Christian theme of morality and transformation in the play. Egloff's dialogue seemed disjointed at first but when the triangle of Dora, Bill, and Kevin began to strain it became electric to my ears.
Erin Sheets directs this frenetic play keeping multiple threads of symbolism, mythology, and integrity sharp and electric as they weave through the play. I consider The Swan to be a paean to feminism represented by Dora. She seems to be a flake who has lost three husbands by divorce, suicide, and disappearance. All of the men in her life have been damaged and looking to her to be made whole; they never consider asking Dora what she needs.
The set designed by Brandi Champagne is brilliant and an extension of her character as she felt her to be. The design is like a railroad-style house or a shotgun as it is called in New Orleans. The set makes the audience feel as if we are voyeurs peeking in as Dora uses the bathroom, and walks over the piles of clothes on the floor. It is also a perfect set for Blair's energetic and graceful performance. He curls up on the floor, hides behind the couch, and bounds up to the top of the fridge in one amazing sequence.
Al Joritz designed the fun props: 1970s colors, crocheted afghans, the hot plate, and other kitchen items say catalog consumerism and home crafts. The lighting design by Sam Anderson and the sound design by Santiago Quintana elevate an atmospheric surrealism. The lights and sound give the illusion of a tape being fast-forwarded as we watch Bill's evolution. The costume design by Benjamin Mills gives a visual punch to the scenes. I kind of want that aqua blue milkman's getup and Bill's mylar disco suit.
Theatre L'Acadie's The Swan is funny and intriguing. It clocks in at 90 minutes with no intermission. I highly recommend it and hope that you are intrigued enough to get some tickets and go see it.
The Swan plays through July 27 at the Facility Theatre, 1138 N. California Ave. in Humboldt Park. Theatre L'Acadie has a pay-what-you-can policy to make theater accessible to everyone; tickets are sliding scale with a suggested $20 admission.
For more information on this and other plays, see theatreinchicago.com.
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