SHOW INFORMATION: Through October 5. Thurs - Sat at 8PM, Sun at 2PM. Tickets and information at www.spotlighters.org or 410.752.1225.
◊◊◊ out of five. 2 hours, 30 minutes, including intermission. Adult language and situations.
A good friend of mine says that after the initial outpouring of the gifts of time and food and togetherness surrounding the diagnosis of a terminal illness, an eerie quiet surrounds the victim. An "out of sight, out of mind" attitude takes over; perhaps it is a form of self-preservation, or maybe a dose of denial. The AIDS crisis, which was THE headline of the ‘80's with its protesting and red ribbons, is a similar victim. You don't hear so much about it anymore and the celebs aren't wearing the ribbons to the Oscars much anymore, either. Maybe it is the false sense of security brought by the potent drug combinations which prolong and improve the quality of life for AIDS patients - it has been said many times that the "diagnosis of AIDS is no longer the death sentence it once was." Maybe it is that what little press there is about the epidemic usually centers around the devastation it has brought to the African continent - "how sad, how far away." The simple fact remains that AIDS is still killing millions here and abroad. So it is more than apropos that Spotlighters Theatre is presenting Elegies for Angels, Punks and Raging Queens, a series of monologues punctuated with songs. The piece has to do with response to another AIDS related symbol now largely forgotten - the gigantic (unfortunately) and emotionally overwhelming AIDS quilt.
The cast of 32 actors and singers has come together to create what I think is intentioned to be a human-scale representation of the everyman quality of the quilt, though aside from some articles posted in the lobby and a few mentions early on in the performance, the quilt seems almost an afterthought in this production. Despite the fact that the piece is as relevant today as ever - perhaps more so given the general apathy surrounding the issue - the play itself doesn't do much to rouse the rabble to take up the cause anew, and the direction by Audra Mains and Nikki Cimino doesn't do much to make it urgent, either.
The play is clearly aiming to be controversial; the title alone suggests that. And when it was first developed in the late 80's - that title probably provoked enough ire and righteous indignation to keep theatres full. (Its original title, The Quilt was axed.) I'll even go so far as to say that it was probably heralded as the gay version of Def Poetry Jam, though I believe the latter came much later than Elegies. But time has not been kind to this piece. Each monologue, written by Bill Russell is written in Seuss-ian style AB rhyme, with an occasional internal rhyme to mix things up. This format does not waiver, and gives the impression of comfort of understanding in spite of the "titillating" use of obscenities to make it more edgy. Still, back in the day, he'd have been given kudos for breaking the mold with in your face speechifying. The content of those monologues is really the biggest casualty of time passed, though. Over the course of 32 poems, every cliché is hit - the promiscuous party boys, the leather boys, the drag queens, the drug addicts, and the more down to earth hemophiliacs, senior citizens getting bad transfusions, and yes, a nurse, valiantly working an AIDS ward who gets it from a bad needle prick. And of course, the expected range of emotions - anger, hatred toward all "faggots", denial and fear - come out as well. Now, understand, I am not even remotely minimizing the content or the emotion, because clichéd or not, each and every story told here is still common, and every emotion still felt. It is the presentation of them that gives them an odd feeling of being alternately quaint and historical.
The 10 songs by Janet Hood, with titles like "I Don't Know How to Help You", "Heroes All Around" and "Learning to Let Go," are about exactly what comes to mind before you even hear them, and almost all of the ten numbers sound pretty much the same - sanitized easy listening. Only two numbers, "And the Rain Keeps Falling Down" and "Spend It While You Can," offer any real weight. The former is a somber emotional moment, while the latter a funny and completely appropriate (and unexpected) reaction to being diagnosed.
