In Second Stage Theater’s Broadway production of THE THANKSGIVING PLAY written by Larissa FastHorse of the Sicangu Lakota Nation, directed by Tony Award Winning Director Rachel Chavkin, this play uses humor and absurdity to address our society’s inability to recorrect it’s happy “peaceful dinner” narrative to the brutal reality of how Indigenous communities that have been massacred, brutalized, and erased from American narratives and especially their own land. With a star filled cast including D’arcy Carden (TV’s The Good Place and A League of their Own), Award Winner Katie Finneran (Noises Off, Promises Promises), Scott Foley, and Chris Sullivan play teachers and actors in real time trying to figure out how a cast of all white people can effectively honor the voices of Indigenous people and their history. With a script that reflects the many conversations and efforts of out “artistically inspired allies” that is highly aware of its time and place living after the BLM movement, FastHorse tactfully writes a story centering white bodies and their allyship (even if it’s performative) to highlight the American discomfort that comes with the truth of Native American History.
The theater starts off with nothing but the hustle and bustle of crowds filling the theater. The stage is incredibly crafted to look like a public school’s drama room. With theater posters and inspirational quotes and headshots peaking around the giant project screen hanging at the forefront of the stage. Noticing such play posters like King Lear, Next to Normal, Is God Is, Titus Adronicas, an impending theme of brutality and blood sprinkle into the air as we hear a familiar tune play as the house darkens. A video projects onto the projector screen; it is a group of adorable children dressed as turkeys singing a Thanksgiving version of “The 12 Days of Christmas.” But in this quick familiar melody, we see every single Native American Trope thrown into a song almost parodying how culturally insensitive and ignorant Americans are to Native history and stereotypes. But then the real shock comes when we witness what is displayed after the song: that this is a song available for schools to use to teach children how to count. The absurdity begins and ends with Americans.
We set the story with our passionate “woke white allies” who are determined to prove to the school how important theater is, and how it can be used to cause revolutionary change. We meet our drama teacher Logan played by Katie Finneran and her partner, yoga practitioner/actor (emphasis on the slash) Jaxton played by Scott Foley. Logan has been given one last chance to prove to the school board and parents that she should keep her job, and with her many won grants, she is feeling the pressure to make this project good. Their conversation sets up the tone of the show, and this huge desire White people have to make change, and to make sure everyone knows how capable and educated they are to do such a task. Not only are the lines brilliantly crafted to mirror conversations we hear post BLM, but with clean comedic timing there is the perfect amount of air to hear the joke, laugh, and understand it. Though many plays are poking fun at this type of person and language, for those in marginalized communities, it might be a tiresome thing to sit through and endure. The extra effort to say the most “evolved” thought in the room and sort of out-inspire one another is sometimes fatiguing to the global majority because we are aware of how ineffective that is in the long run. Although many white audience members laugh the loudest to prove they aren’t like them, I wonder how many see how unhelpful this quality is in the long run. I would be curious to see more plays demonstrate what conversations could look like versus the ones we hear so often.
Another bit that stood out to me was a little call out to intimacy directing and how artists apply it to their personal relationships. Although I initially saw it as a simple little wink wink to those who know, post show allowed me to see that this was quite a physical embodiment of how people treat shallow activism and education. People will put on a show to prove to others they aren’t “the bad ones” but the minute they can take it off, they take it off. But when they are in it, they will unintentionally center themselves in these conversations. When they’re tapped in, they are the ones to take up air and space, finding ways to be able to relate to things they have honestly never gone through. Then when the job is done, they pat themselves on the back and return to their regular lives. Their ability to create such a distinct separation is directly related to their privilege. The farther away you are from the issues, the easier it is to step out of it and ignore it when it gets too hard.
The show continues with these themes as we meet the next two characters, our ethnically ambiguous simpleton Alicia (D’arcy Carden) and our fervent history teacher Caden (Chris Sullivan.) These two add new perspectives into the conversation that Logan and Jaxton are so excited to curate. With the focus on Alicia being assumed to be Indigenous, we first see how objectifying it is to be the “spokesperson” for an entire experience. As if the Indigenous community is a monolith, this ideal is opposed by Caden who has immersed themselves in a very American filtered history creating a contradictory narrative on what is the truth. And although Logan points out that “good drama is at its core, truth,” when the truth comes out that Alicia is not Indigenous, but just someone who can pass as many different ethnicities, our core four face the reality of their situation. A situation many theater spaces know too well. Attempting to create a story about an experience that none of them have lived in. Claiming pride in their ability to expose the truth of a matter none of them really know about. They realize they are simply a group of white people trying to talk about the Indigenous experience, without any Native voices in the room. And here we found the truth in our play, and now we watch the good drama unfold.
As they attempt to problem solve, FastHorse creates wonderful moments between the two women and the two men. A commentary on feminism and how exhausting life is for femme identifying people. Jokes about being simple and using what you are given to your advantage, while also making the fair point that sometimes simplicity is bliss. And a quick point to the audience of why people choose not to fully educate themselves on such topics, because the less you know, the easier. Right?
But that comes to a crash when the men re-enter the room, claiming to have found a solution on how to tell this story
through the innate violence of the first Thanksgiving. These themes linger as they continue to craft a story about Native’s without native voices; a concept present throughout the whole piece. As they brainstorm, the theme of blood and violence seeps into the stage, while they begin to present their ideas, they physicalize the violence through high energy staging; shifting the set around, and using vividly jarring props. With FastHorse’s story and Chavkin directing, we as an audience are forced to really see just how truly violent this holiday and the relationship to Native people and how Native lands have been stolen.
Appalled by this display of inappropriate theatrics, the team disperses to try to come up with a less insensitive solution and improv more ideas. We see the charm of the actors radiate from line to line and bit to bit. Their comedic skills and understanding of the piece is incredibly evident and thoroughly enjoyed. We give the spotlight to their skills when Logan comes up with an idea to acknowledge the lack of representation in the room, but letting the absence of indigenous voices speak. As a theater maker, I found this idea incredibly effective. And we see the other characters realize that too and begin to object to this concept. Jaxton even claims that “by silencing the Native voices we’ve made them too strong. Silence is so powerful on stage. Our characters can’t compete with that.” They begin to debate more about how to create a world where everyone is equal and people don’t have to compensate for the previous imbalances. What comes from this is a hilarious crafted full circle of PC conceits and language so tied up in one another that it starts to justify centering white people again. Exhausted by this, the argument becomes personal and digs a deeper hole into how privileged people are desperate to experience something close to discrimination so they can have their reason for feeling such feelings like marginalized communities feel. Things bubble and bubble until a soft spotlight appears: representing simplicity. The piece they have been searching for was right in front of them. A fully empty spot with nothing. Or as Logan calls it, “perfectly equitable emptiness.” They found their answer: to do nothing. Make a piece about nothing. Then everyone will be happy right? All the preceding pressures of Donors and school boards and parents will dissipate, because they can’t get mad over nothing.
Larissa Fasthorse. Photo credit: Conor Horgan
A wonderful Duo of Larissa FastHorse and Rachel Chavkin created a multilayered piece with so much dimension. Chavkin’s ability to create so many specific moments simultaneously happening, both supporting each moment and character while adding detail to the container allowed for FastHorse’s direct message with complicated immediate circumstances to feel clear to the audience of what the message is. Humor was integral in the piece, and through those laughs, it allowed for the violent moments to speak. Although the audience was expecting a comedy, I wonder how much they are willing to trade in their laughs to help carry the weight of the story and honor the lives of Indigenous people outside of this theater.
