Outdoor play dares to show a little bit of 'Skin'

Luis Buñuel's landmark 1962 film, The Exterminating Angel, began with a disclaimer that alerted the audience that "the best explanation of this film is that, from the standpoint of pure reason, there is no explanation." Although The Skin of Our Teeth, directed by Daniel Squadron, CC '02, and produced by Joshua Kreigman, CC '02, is not as classically absurd as this, it would still be wise to keep Buñuel's warning in mind while watching it. The Thornton Wilder-penned (and Pulitzer Prize-winning) play premiered right here in New Haven at the Shubert Theater in 1942; 58 years later it comes back to the Elm City, with one notable difference: the elements. This is the first-ever show put on by the newly-formed Yale Outdoor Dramatic Association (YODA). Thus, with inclement weather as the enemy, the people involved in the play set out this weekend on their noble quest to bewilder the audience.

KATHERINE ALDRICH/YH Homer (Matthew Fogel, ES '02, center) rocks for the Antrobuses.

It may sound like it's a bad thing, but it's not. The play is most overtly about the Antrobuses, a New Jersey nuclear family: mister, missus, son, and daughter. And the maid. We may be in the Jersey 'burbs geographically, but before long clues are dropped—nay, thrown at you—that something is amiss. As it happens, the Antrobuses are living on the brink of an ice age. Actually, make that The Ice Age.

We are at the dawn of man: Mr. Antrobus has just invented the wheel (to go along with his previous innovations of the alphabet and the multiplication tables), the family has a dinosaur as a pet, and a giant sheet of ice is approaching from the north! This imminent disaster provides the impetus for the first of three acts, each of which are centered around a different disaster: the second is a biblical flood, more or less literally, and the third deals with the moments just following the conclusion of a long world war. The focus is always on the family, although outside that there is little intended unity to Wilder's creation. Concepts of causality and chronology are thrown out the window, as historical figures—we even get to meet people such as Homer and Moses—and references are tossed about without much care to where they fall in the continuum. The main characters themselves are not situated anywhere in particular, either; Wilder opens up the possibility that the Antrobuses have lived for thousands of years, and Mr. and Mrs. Antrobus may very well be Adam and Eve, or maybe not.

Without any real dramatic cohesion, the task of conveying Wilder's vision of The Skin of Our Teeth falls largely on the actors. The continuity of the main characters—the four Antrobuses and Sabina, the maid—throughout the disparate acts is essential, and everyone does a fine job of it.

The cast is led by the high-strung and high-pitched performance of Emily Lodish, TD '03, as Sabina. On edge the entire time, Lodish becomes the audience's connection to the surreal events on the stage: at numerous points throughout, her character gets fed up with the script and becomes the actress herself, forcing the others in turn to lose their own personas in an attempt to get her to continue with the script. They all address each other by their real names, occasionally apologizing and explaining things to the audience. But while these transformations are clear on the surface, they are obscured by the persistent acting of Lodish, as well as that of Isaac Laskin, ES '02, and Molly Kleiman, SY '03, as Mr. and Mrs. Antrobus; there is almost no recognizable change in demeanor between the actors and their characters, and we get the feeling that all the characters/actors are as confounded—and intrigued—by the script as we are.

The level of acting that Wilder demands of his main characters is supplemented well by a strong supporting cast, most notably in Max Borenstein's, JE '03, comic turn as a messenger, and David Croke's, ES '02, alternately sulking and screaming performance as son Henry. While you're attempting to piece together an unpieceable plot, the occasional cold gust of wind will remind you of what makes this already unique play even more notable: it's outside, a veritable rarity among large-scale theater productions at Yale.

Theater

The Skin of Our Teeth Written by Thorton Wilder Directed by Daniel Squadron Fri., Apr. 21 through Sun., Apr. 23, 7 p.m. Courtyard behind SSS $2 under 25, $5 over 25

YODA has found the perfect spot for its outdoor theater in the courtyard behind SSS. The cozy setting is still large enough for a good-sized crowd to make itself comfortable on the grass, facing the ledge on the side of the area behind the Becton Center. Squadron and his technical crew seize the opportunity to turn an overlooked part of the campus into a creative backdrop that is at the heart of the production. The interesting architecture of the stage is utilized quite successfully; even if the play were to be performed in a traditional theater, it would be hard to imagine it being run much differently. This naturalness becomes especially significant in a work that is so concerned with breaking down theatrical artifice; you see clearly that the stage is simply there, just as you are reminded that the people before you are simply actors.

Of course, this isn't to say that there aren't moments where an actual theater may have benefited the production. However, all are due to factors beyond the control of cast and crew, whose hard work makes pulling it off by the skin of their teeth, so to speak, seem effortless. While the police siren and church bells each drowned out a few lines here and there and were a distraction, they did little to affect the overall flow (or intrinsic lack thereof) of the play. And so, to thoroughly enjoy The Skin of Our Teeth, you just need to remember two things: you're not supposed to get it, and bring your jacket.

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