I Want a Country (review)

Spoilers ahoy!

A quick apology--I have been over-worked and over-stressed otherwise this and other reviews would have already appeared.  My bad.  

I Want a Country by Andreas Flourakis proves a startling, even haunting piece of theatre.  The text reads frankly like an extremely long, if cogent, poem about current events--although written from a Greek perspective about the multiple crises facing Greece in years past.  Today, of course, in the United States its power translates into the the consequences of our most recent election, and the tsunami of disasters that continue to follow.  Yet what makes this performance so enthralling (and for the record, I was enthralled) is its staging.

Director Frederique Michel along with her cast brought what doesn't seem like it should be very dramatic to a fiercely vivid life.  City Garage (a company that has never disappointed me) uses its backwall to show projections of a what seems like a dreamscape as a group of people wander on stage.  Dark birds fly amid clouds behind them, as a group specific persons make their way together to...where?  The answer is unclear.  A place of waiting.  Evidently on or near a coast.  They are in effect wannabe refugees, horrified at how unlivable, chaotic, emotionally barren yet frightening their home has become.  They want somewhere new, somewhere fresh, somewhere better.

Sound familiar?

The backdrop changes, turning into unforgiving sunlight, into a storm clouds pouring rain, into dark birds amid clouds again, going through a cycle.  And the people, these individuals try to figure out what it is they want, or at least what they don't want, from a "new" country.  At first they seem to be waiting for a boat to come and take them...somewhere.  So they fantasize about what that somewhere will be (or might be, or should be) like.

Andy Kallok is a single crotchety old man longing for a past he seems to only half recall with any details. David E. Frank and Lenka Janischova Shockley are a seemingly affluent couple, affectionate and full of idealism about what maybe can be built from the ashes.  Martha Duncan and Bo Roberts are another couple, more terrified and upset, one fueled by anger and the other by a bewildered set of emotions about events.  Angela Beyer and Alyssa Frey are another couple, clearly affectionate and supporting, but disagreeing about the past and future and presumably the present. Likewise the rest of the ensemble--Alyssa Ross, Daniel Strausman, Liam Galaz Howard, and Shane Weikel--together make up a whole spectrum of age, class, ideology, relationship status, etc.  All pass their time, amid the shifting cycles of weather amid luggage and holding umbrellas, talking and sharing thoughts in between attempts at rest.  

It comes across more than anything as akin to a dance, a simple but profound dance amid hopes, fears, rages, and attempts to make sense of it all--a collection of human beings living through disaster with no end nor rescue in sight.  What else is there to do but wait, endure, and try to understand? 

Again, sound familiar?

But amid all these speeches and mini-arguments, it all feels very familiar indeed.  Which kept my attention and engaged my heart.

I Want a Country (translated by Eleni Drivas) runs Saturdays at 8pm and Sundays at 4pm until March 16, 2025 at Bergamot Station Arts Center, 2525 Michigan Ave. T1, Santa Monica, Ca, 90404.