Mark Twain’s short story A Fable gets a dazzling rebirth in A Wonderfully Flat Thing, when Manju Shandler (the artistic director who had previously designed masks and puppetry for The Lion King on Broadway) brings her creative talent to this small but charming production which appeals to everyone from age three and up.  The script has been adapted for the stage by Valerie Work, Manju Shandler, & Basmat Hazan.

In this reinterpretation, Mark Twain (Jake Goodman) is working on a new story that has to do with a big mirror in his room. When he falls asleep, his Cat (Emily Hartford) discovers a beautiful cat in “the wonderfully flat thing” and runs into the forest to tell her friends about it. Skeptical at first, the menagerie decides to investigate and convinces Donkey (Jake Goodman) to go into the house. Donkey, of course, sees a donkey in “the wonderfully flat thing,” contradicting Cat’s story. The controversy is brought up to King Elephant (Shawn Shafner), who sends out Snake (Sarah Painter) followed by Ostrich (Sarae Garcia) to settle the matter. Snake reports witnessing a snake. Ostrich comes back in tears, telling a sad story of a big clumsy bird who wanted to soar with the seagulls, but couldn’t fly. Finally, King Elephant embarks on the adventure himself, discovering his own reflection in “the wonderfully flat thing.”

The tale is deceptively simple, but there’s a lot to read between the lines, as well as in the characters’  costumes – so brilliantly designed by Shandler - and even in their self-reflections and mental images that are brought to us via multi-media effects (designed by David Tirosh) and additional background puppetry.

Donkey, an old gent with strong opinions, is elegantly clad in an old-fashioned cardigan with a red-white-and-blue trim and a button that proclaims “No, you can’t!” Snake’s self-reflection brings out a familiar scene of a snake snatching apples off a tree; we definitely had been exposed to that one before. And, trumping and trampling, Elephant is a picture of a monarch, who had long ago outlived his use.

Flamboyant, picturesque costumes, alluring puppets and colorful stage décor instantly transform the LABA Theater into an enchanted forest where the fascinating animals live. What’s more, the children can sit on the front row red carpet if they want to fluff Ostrich’s lacey skirt, pet Snake, or “Hee-haw” back at Donkey. Unlike the more formal shows that require enough discipline to remain seated in thy chair and stay quiet, AWonderfully Flat Thing, pays as much respect to the stiff societal rules of proper etiquette as did its creator. The little audience is free to shout, giggle, crawl, jump and interact with the characters. “The house is there,” they shout to the seemingly lost Donkey. “Wake up!” – to the sleeping Mark Twain. “Ooh,” they sigh at the sight of a sobbing Ostrich, “Don’t cry!”

After the show the puppets come out to mingle. Ostrich lets the little fans fuzzy up her feathery tutu, the cat draws a feline-loving crowd and if you never high-fived an elephant, well now’s your chance to slap that big round paw. And, if you want to bring home a souvenir, you can buy a few tiny, colorful, rubbery finger puppets from the concession stand.

“For kids, it’s an entertaining riddle, a romp on stage with surprising puppets,” says Manju Shandle. “For adults it’s a piece about self-reflection.” But, perhaps the best moral of the story is expressed by Mark Twain’s own words: “You can find in a text whatever you bring, if you stand between it and the mirror of your imagination.”

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• That’s Quite A Story – The Tragic Story Of Doctor Frankenstein
• ‘Twixt And ‘Tween The ‘Twain – “The Mark Twain You Don’t Know”

The Happiest Medium Review by guest contributors Anjali Koppal and Saurabh Paranjape

We went into Dorothy Fortenberry’s Good Egg expecting a light hearted take on the subject of embryo selection, probably due to the play’s frothy self-description (“A funny and surprising play about bioethics, siblings, and the limits of unconditional love”). We walked out of this emotional roller coaster ride overwhelmed by the overall experience. The play might not have delivered what it promised, but it blew our minds away with powerful performances and a strong message.

Dan McCabe and Andrea Day in The Red Fern Theatre Company's "Good Egg" (Photo Credit: Eliza Brown)

Good Egg has a simple, linear story. Meg (Andrea Day) lives with her brother Matt (Dan McCabe), who is on medication for bipolar disorder. Pressured by the ticking of her biological clock, and the threat of infertility that endometriosis brings, Meg decides to have a baby with sperm from a donor. When Matt finds out that Meg plans to screen her embryos for diseases, including bipolar disorder, he tries to convince her otherwise, thus leading the audience through a deep exploration of how this disease affects the life of the patient and their loved ones.

The play addresses tough questions asked in difficult situations. Is a fear of lifelong loneliness a good enough reason to want to have a baby? Is it morally correct to screen your potential babies in search of the ‘perfect’ one? What does it feel like to live with someone suffering with bipolar disorder, and how much responsibility does one have towards an adult sibling suffering from bipolar disorder? But instead of slipping into pedantic debate, the play successfully broaches these topics through subtle theatrical devices. Kudos especially to composer Colin Wambsgans and sound designer Katherine A. Buechner, who expertly rework the peppy, upbeat soundtrack of ‘Singin’ in The Rain’ to fit the mood of the play.

Good Egg depends solely on only two actors (and minimal set design) to run the show, and the leads do not disappoint. Andrea Day as an elder sister who ploughs through life’s infinite obstacles with sticky notes and organized folders, is flawless. Day’s performance makes you ache as you watch her swim against the seemingly insurmountable tide of a life held hostage by bipolar disorder. Dan McCabe brilliantly essays the very difficult role of a bipolar patient with the necessary erratic edge. As you watch McCabe leap across the stage, singing in gay abandon one minute, and bawling inconsolably another, you can’t help but share his impotent frustration at a disorder he neither understands nor is able to manage. Director Kel Haney has firm control over the emotional barometer of the play, deftly easing us into the siblings’ calm, almost perfect world, before transforming it without warning into a raging sea of emotional tumult.

As is tradition, the Red Fern Theater Company production has partnered with the Family Center for Bipolar Disorder to bring Good Egg to stage, with a part of the box-office proceeds going to the organization. An engaging and thoroughly professional play with riveting performances and a powerful message that addresses important social themes that need much attention — Good Egg should certainly be on your list of must-watches this weekend!

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Related Posts:

• A Wonderfully Flat Thing – Or A Journey Into Your Imagination
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