Questions Raised by Frames – UNCLE VANYA AND ZOMBIES at KT

The trick to why television and movies are so popular, so prevalent, so everyday, has to do with catharsis. The average person can experience the world without ever leaving the couch. We believe what we see on the screen enough to have physical reactions: an increase in heart rate, an outburst of laughter, the welling of tears in our eyes. Theatre, with its obviously constructed nature, isn’t able to match the believability of film, no matter how hard a production may try. This could be seen as a limitation, but only if the object of a play is to be as “real” as what’s on screen. A better objective might be to play with the very idea of realness, believability, and the human desire for catharsis. This is what Uncle Vanya and Zombies does.

The play is actually a play within the frame of a reality TV show within the frame of a theatre within the frame of a Zombie-infested version of O‘ahu. The contestants are acting in Chekhov’s classic in the hopes of winning a ticket to the mainland. While performing, they must fend off zombies, stay in character, remember their lines, and not die and turn into zombies. Two TV host personalities introduce the audience to the concept, while ostensibly also speaking to the viewers at home. The series, we are told repeatedly, has raised millions in relief funds for the victims of Pearl Harbor II, the nuclear accident that resulted in all the zombies.

This show is funny. The many frames, including a giant electric fence surrounding the set, separate the audience from a genuine emotional connection to anyone or anything on stage. The characters in the play aren’t real—they’re just part of a reality show. The contestants aren’t real—they’re just actors. The hosts aren’t real because this is all some kind of big joke. We, the audience, aren’t even real—we’re acting too. We’re in on the joke. So we laugh. Look at them trying to perform a play while spastic zombies attack. So ridiculous. As if a show like this could ever really exist. As if human beings could be so crass. Listen to how the lines in the play relate to the made-up situation for which the play is being performed. The corruption and greed of humanity. How desperate people are, whether because of love or zombies. How clever! Ha-ha!

For those who might wonder why Vanya and zombies, “Chekhov expert” Craig Howes comes in between rounds to give a mini-lecture, culminating with the idea of consumption. We are consumers—we are consumed. Physically, mentally, literally, and metaphorically.

The frameworks that serve to distance also indict the audience. Director Markus Wessendorf includes the spectator and says, look at these pathetic people, see how they suffer, isn’t it wonderful?, and when we nod our heads and laugh, we comply. Wesserndorf employs the concepts of influential German theatre revolutionary Bertolt Brecht (which is not surprising given that he engineered Hawai‘i’s very own Brecht Festival a couple of years back). While Vanya and Zombies superficially provides clever entertainment for the zombie-loving masses, sociopolitical messages confront the audience on a more subliminal level, raising thought-provoking questions: Why is suffering entertaining? Why do we laugh as characters fight for their lives?

The messages, not restricted to the play, reflect other public entertainment venues. Why do crowds boo injured players on the football field just because they didn’t catch a ball? Or why do they cheer at home if the suffering player is on the other team? Beyond that, we now have fantasy sports, where people pick and choose live players as if they were pieces on a virtual board game. Mass entertainment allows for the dehumanization of contestants, and yet pretend characters on our favorite TV shows bring us to tears.

I can imagine this production staged with audience on all sides, as opposed to proscenium, like a sporting event. The proximity of audience members to the actor-contestants (and zombies) probably would have raised the stakes. The whole production could have been more interactive, energizing, and poignant, while still providing distance created by the multiple frames—a mental rather than physical difference. As it was, the audience neither cheered nor cried. We laughed. And so I wonder how many felt confronted with the questions I found after meditating on what I had seen. The detachment, I fear, may have been too complete, leaving many merely entertained. Then again, perhaps I’m not giving the zombie-loving masses enough credit.

Tickets and Showtimes

Nov 9, 10, 15, 16, 17 at 8pm
Nov 18 at 2pm
Regular: $24.00
Seniors, Military, UH Faculty/Staff: $22.00
UHAA Members: $15.00
Students: $13.00
UH Manoa Students with Valid ID: $5.00