Dear readers of all ethnic identities, political and religious affiliations and socio-economic backgrounds: There’s a lot to unpack in Jonathan Spector’s play “Eureka Day,” so can we please hold space for multiple points of view?
And remember, when I assign a star rating to this review (see above), it’s merely one person’s (he/him) subjective, biased, privileged opinion. If you feel otherwise about the play, kindly let me know. All views are welcome — and valid.
This hyper-inclusive (and well-intentioned) introduction would likely be right at home in an executive board meeting of the titular elementary private school in Berkeley, Calif., the setting of Spector’s of-the-moment script, which won a Tony Award for best revival of a play last year.
It’s late 2017, and in a very funny opening scene, the five board members — comprised of the school’s Rumi-quoting principal, Don (Kevin Bundy), co-founder (and nominal head) Suzanne (Sarah McVie), and parents Eli (Jake Epstein), Meiko (Stephanie Sy) and the newest member, Carina (Sophia Walker) — discuss changing the drop-down menu for prospective parents. Should there be a box for “transracial adoptee”? Most of the five speak in tones that are studiously, self-consciously inoffensive.
A problem soon emerges, however, to puncture their protective bubble. Several students have contracted the mumps, prompting an urgent letter from the department of public health, an imminent school closure, quarantines and heated discussions about vaccine statuses.
Things reach a fever pitch during a virtual school town hall — or, as Don puts it, a “community activated conversation” — where we get a sense of the range of opinions among the students’ parents about science, conspiracy theories and ultimately personal vs. collective responsibility. It goes about as well as you’d expect.
What’s remarkable about Spector’s play is that he wrote it several years before the COVID-19 pandemic made talk about vaccine mandates, quarantines and outbreaks commonplace. Back in 2017, Robert F. Kennedy Jr. wasn’t yet the U.S.’s Secretary of Health and Human Services, and thus hadn’t cut $500 million in federal funding for mRNA vaccine technology research.
With that in mind, it’s eerily prescient. But even without the ripped-from-the-headlines relevance, the play would score top marks. While Spector manages to make us laugh at the absurdity of human behaviour, none of the characters comes across as villainous. Funny, yes, but not evil.
And under director Mitchell Cushman, the actors each deliver nuanced, layered performances.
McVie’s Suzanne, for instance, beautifully costumed by designer Laura Delchiaro in comfortable, flowing fabrics, is clearly used to dominating conversations, even if she interrupts people with apologies that aren’t exactly apologies. But your feelings about her will change after a moving monologue about two-thirds through the play.
Likewise, Walker’s Carina, a Black mother who’s been invited to the board’s one open spot, starts out as deferential and gradually finds the confidence to speak her mind, cutting through the group’s micro-aggressions and insensitive assumptions about her economic background.
Epstein’s Eli, meanwhile, begins the play hopped up on energy and tech-millionaire bravado, only to reveal more vulnerability and depth after an off-stage event occurs.
Spector knows these characters’ foibles, from their seeming progressive attitudes toward open marriages to their economic bottom lines. While no choreographer is credited, the way the actors — particularly Bundy’s jovial principal — move on the stage tells you a lot about them. You only need to see the way Suzanne sits on a chair to know she practices yoga. And when, midway through the play, Sy’s Meiko takes up knitting during board meetings it says a lot about what she thinks of the proceedings.
Steve Lucas and Beckie Morris’ set deserves special mention. A realistic replica of an elementary school library, complete with slogans and well-stocked shelves of books, it has been constructed at a certain angle to open up and invite the viewer in. Posters of the letters of the alphabet (for instance, “D is for Decolonize”) extend out into the theatre space.
One of my only criticisms of the production concerns the livestreamed Skype meeting involving the wider community. A screen showing the parents’ contributions is placed so far upstage it’s a little hard to make out every comment. But otherwise, to borrow from the unseen parent Leslie Kaufman, this production gets a great big thumbs-up emoji.
Before the meetings, the board members swap out children’s chairs for adult ones, giving them lots of stage business to do. Cushman’s point here is clear. Even though these people are grown up, they’re still essentially kids, figuring out the rules of how to get along together — even when they don’t agree on something.
It’s a lesson we could all learn.
