Human Weakness Laid Bare — MISS JULIE by AWS

Apostol and Chu

All the World’s a Stage Theatre Company’s latest “in your space” production, Miss Julie, has found its way to Indigo’s Opium Den, with the setting of Strindberg’s play relocated from Sweden to China, and the script adapted to match the altered time and place—1930s Shanghai. The set isn’t a set, really, not in the way most sets are constructed. The space is used more or less “as is,” creating a theatre out of the natural structure and dimensions of the Opium Den. The audience sits only feet away from the action, with no demarcation between “stage” and “offstage” areas. Not even the lighting accomplishes any noticeable separation of the space. There is a lack of theatricality about the show, an attempt, it seems, to create something very realistic, very believable, very personal, very intimate.

At only an hour and fifteen minutes, this play is packed with drama—a real rollercoaster power struggle between the three characters. Class, sexuality, and gender are the major motivating themes feeding into each character’s desire and ambition, manifesting in jealousy, manipulation, and seduction. The dialogue is dense and acts as the vehicle for these physical and emotional collisions. The story revolves around the interaction between Miss Julie (Lacey Perrine Chu)—the Master’s daughter—and Jean (Troy M. Apostol)—the Master’s Servant—with Tracy Hanayo Okubo playing Christine, the cook and Jean’s finance, who has a less prominent but important part in the drama. The Master, away for the evening, exerts unseen force over the entire story.

It’s the night of the Autumn Moon Festival and Miss Julie has decided to remain home with the servants to celebrate. Miss Julie flirts with and commands Jean, while bullying Christine. By morning, everything has changed.

The naturalistic quality and intimacy of the space along with a lack of conventional theatrical enhancement as previously described sets up steep expectations for the actors in this production. It is absolutely vital that they connect all the way through, riding the actions and intentions inherent in the language and demanded from the story from point to point—climbing the heights, navigating the twists and turns, gliding through the passes. Overall, the big moments are realized, but not necessarily all the small stops along the way.

Chu and Apostol both provide their characters with a range of expression and a well of emotions. Miss Julie comes off as highly unstable, nearly on the brink from her first appearance on the scene and rapidly spiraling. Her changes in temperament are sharply marked, the opposite of subtle. Apostol’s shifts from moment to moment are less drastic, in line with his character’s conniving nature. Their relationship teeters, hinged like a seesaw, with degrees of power tipping the scales in either direction.

Apostol and Okubo

In contrast, Okubo’s Christine maintains a decidedly even key. Her face almost never changes, nor does her tone of voice, though her words and physical actions suggest a great deal of internal struggle.

Miss Julie presents the audience with a lot to think about. The characters could be set in almost any time and place throughout history. Paul T. Mitri, the artistic director of All the World’s a Stage, writes in a program note, “When we see them up close and personal, we realize that we all have these ambitions, insecurities and dark sides.” These are round psychological characters, identifiable in the people we know, and in ourselves.

This adaptation of the script, accomplished by Chu, works on all levels, except maybe when it comes to the characters’ names. They don’t sound very Chinese. It’s easy to imagine the language as “translated,” meaning that the characters are “actually” speaking Chinese, but harder to understand where a name like Christine or Jean comes from. Anyhow, it’s a minute distraction.

The space, costumes, and sound design achieve everything necessary to place the show, and the actors accomplish a good deal of what’s necessary to tell the story. There’s an unfinished quality about the production, however. The actors often face away from the majority of the audience for long periods, and certain moments feel out of sync, abrupt. Hannah Schauer Galli is listed as Collaborating Director, indicating a more shared approach to direction than the norm. I wonder if a more authoritarian approach might have been just what this show needed, at least in the final stages. Without a big stage, or dramatic lighting, or other less than realistic theatrical conventions, everything is laid bare, each movement and expression subjected to the ultimate scrutiny. It’s a brave, commendable, and fitting approach to the script, the story, and the characters. 

For more information, see the Facebook Event Page or the All the World’s a Stage website.

Photos stolen from All the World’s a Stage’s Facebook album Miss Julie.