Ova, Ovate, Ovation

It's the simplest of nursery rhymes, one you probably learned as a child.

William Wallace Denslow's depiction of Humpty Dumpty

There's probably a great deal you don't know about Humpty Dumpty's backstory and place in popular culture.

• According to the Oxford English Dictionary, the 17th-century term "humpty dumpty" referred to a drink of brandy boiled with ale.
• The earliest known version of Humpty Dumpty was published in 1797 in Samuel Arnold's Juvenile Amusements.
• According to Wikipedia, similar riddles have been recorded by folklorists in other languages ("Boule Boule" in French, "Lille Trille" in Swedish and Norwegian, and "Runtzelken-Puntzelken" or "Humpelken-Pumpelken" in different parts of Germany) though none has become as widely known as Humpty Dumpty is in English.
• Humpty Dumpty appears in Lewis Carroll's 1872 novel entitled Through the Looking-Glass, where Alice notes that she said he looks like an egg, not that he is one.
• Neurologist A. J. Larner has suggested that Lewis Carroll's Humpty Dumpty might have suffered from prosopagnosia on the basis of the character having difficulty recognizing faces.

John Tenniel’s illustration of Humpty Dumpty and Alice
from Lewis Carroll’s book, Through the Looking-Glass

• The tune for Humpty Dumpty was noted in 1870 in James William Elliott's book entitled "National Nursery Rhymes and Nursery Songs."
• The first recorded versions of the rhyme date from late 18th-century England.
• Humpty Dumpty makes an appearance in L. Frank Baum's 1901 book entitled Mother Goose in Prose.
• The popular song "I'm Sitting on Top of the World" (1925) mentions Humpty Dumpty twice with the lyric "Just like Humpty Dumpty, I'm gonna fall."

• In 1930, Katherine Elwes Thomas theorized that Humpty Dumpty is supposed to be King Richard III of England.
• In Neil Gaiman's short story entitled "The Case of the Four and Twenty Blackbirds" (1984), he transformed the tale of Humpty Dumpty into a hardboiled film noir-style piece of crime fiction involving other characters from popular nursery rhymes.
• In 2002, Robert Rankin used Humpty Dumpty as a victim of his serial fairy-tale character murderer in his 24th novel (The Hollow Chocolate Bunnies of the Apocalypse).

Ashlin Halfnight has an intensely personal perspective on what it means to take a fall like Humpty Dumpty's. The Fulbright scholar was a professional hockey player for the Carolina Hurricanes. After retiring from the sport, he was accepted by the Lee Strasburg Institute in New York on the same day that his hockey agent called with an offer of $40,000 to play out the rest of the season for a hockey team in Detroit. Much to his agent's shock and dismay, Halfnight declined the offer in order to spend time in New York waiting tables, taking acting lessons, and trying to become a successful writer. He recalls how, during one acting class where he was supposed to perform an exercise that involved peeling an orange, all he could think about was "somebody walking into the room and saying 'That's my fucking orange. You stole my orange!'"

Looking back from the perspective of a successful playwright, screenwriter, and television writer (Halfnight is one of the talents driving the story line of the Emmy Award-winning Netflix show, Bloodline), he realizes how important narrative has always been to him.

“The range of human experience that comes through sport is a very rich landscape to draw from when trying to understand people and what makes them do the things they do. Hockey players are not sensitive or intuitive, but hockey very much informs my writing. It’s very humbling to have your teeth knocked out, be punched in the face, fail, lose, or get humiliated. I’ve knocked people out in the rink. I know what it feels like to run into somebody with two people skating at 40 miles an hour (you’re talking about an 80-mile-an-hour collision). People are literally knocked out. They’re lying on the ice twitching while the crowd is cheering.”

* * * * * * * * *

Having workshopped The Resting Place during its 2017 Virgin Play Festival, Magic Theatre is now presenting the world premiere of Halfnight's beautifully crafted family drama. As the play begins, 32-year-old Annie Jackson (Martha Brigham) arrives at her parents' home in Detroit to help her family deal with an unspeakable crisis. Her older brother and BFF, Travis, has committed suicide after being exposed as the chicken hawk who assaulted 14 young men (one was only 12 years old; another had been under Travis's care at summer camp).

A passionate warrior for her beliefs, Annie arrives from San Francisco with her organizational engines at full throttle, ready to take over such basic chores as dealing with the church and insurance companies, securing a death certificate and negotiating with a florist, placing an obituary in the local newspaper, and helping her family make phone calls. What she doesn't understand is that her mother, Angela (Emilie Talbot), and father, Mitch (James Carpenter), have already gone through the more traumatic ordeals of dealing with the police, cleaning the dried blood and body bits from Travis's apartment, disconnecting their phones because of the death threats they have begun to receive, and burning their son's suicide note without waiting for Annie to read it. Although Travis may have been Annie's personal hero, to many others in the community he was the demon who selfishly shattered their lives.

Martha Brigham (Annie) in a scene from The Resting Place
(Photo by: Jennifer Reiley)

Despite Annie's determination to honor her brother's soul by micromanaging his funeral, her parents are not making plans for such a service for one simple reason: the powers that be at Saint Mary's refuse to bless Travis's body or bury him in their cemetery. A furious control freak determined to achieve closure on her own terms, Annie won't let anything stop her from giving Travis the sendoff she imagines he would have wanted. Obnoxiously loud and pitifully pugnacious considering the circumstances, she is so determined to get her own way that she cannot begin to understand the anguish that has engulfed the rest of her family and Travis's ex-boyfriend, Liam Antonel (Wiley Naman Strasser).

Martha Brigham (Annie) and Wiley Naman Strasser (Liam)
in a scene from The Resting Place (Photo by: Jennifer Reiley)

Halfnight does a splendid job of making Annie the kind of character who always has to be right while building suspense as the Jackson clan struggles to cope with the horrible new reality that will haunt them for the rest of their lives. When describing the challenge of writing The Goat, or Who Is Sylvia? Edward Albee claimed that he had to look further afield than Vladimir Nabokov’s 1955 novel, Lolita, in order to find a taboo that would still be controversial enough to spark horrified reactions from audiences. In today's steady stream of appalling news reports (ranging from catastrophic hurricanes and wildfires to unending waves of mass shootings and the brutal murder of Jamal Khashoggi), even the most sensational news items have acquired a rapidly diminishing shelf life. As Halfnight explains:

“What’s not interesting to me about stories of abuse is most of what’s often reported in the traditional news media and online. The binary of victim and perpetrator, of criminal and innocent, is less nuanced and less complicated than the surrounding parties who are affected by that central traumatic event. The thing itself is not that complicated. It is often a sick, terrible, malicious, or mentally ill person doing something with/to someone who is often powerless or less able to understand and/or contextualize what’s happening.”

James Carpenter (Mitch) and Martha Brigham (Annie) in a
scene from The Resting Place (Photo by: Jennifer Reiley)

“While I’m interested in that, I’m drawn most to the folks who are left behind, trying to pick up the pieces and figure out how to move forward. In my work, there are always people who have moved on in some way, shape or form (either positively or negatively). This play explores or asks what kinds of things we find so abhorrent nowadays in society that would make us all take vocal action (or disallow somebody to be buried somewhere) to essentially not have somebody included in our society. It’s about the complexity of collateral damage.”

James Carpenter (Mitch), Emilie Talbot (Angela), Emily
Radosevich (Macy), and Martha Brigham (Annie) in a scene
from The Resting Place (Photo by: Jennifer Reiley)

As a result, the real drama behind The Resting Place is whether or not shattered members of the Jackson clan can continue to function as a family. Annie's parents cannot afford to retire or move somewhere else in the wake of this tragedy. Mitch (who has just lost a major client as a result of the news) is tormented by the thought that he didn't know enough to be able to ask Travis the right questions when, at the age of nine or ten, his son started wetting the bed again. While anesthetizing herself with booze, Angela confesses to missing Travis terribly, having doubts about being a good mother, and slowly realizing that she can no longer call her youngest grandson "Blubber."

Martha Brigham (Annie) and Emilie Talbot (Angela) in a
scene from The Resting Place (Photo by: Jennifer Reiley)

After the police tore his apartment apart while looking for evidence of child pornography, Liam plans to move someplace where he can start a new life. The Jacksons' youngest daughter, Macy (Emily Radosevich), may take pride in her skills as a problem solver and still love her family, but she also has a political campaign to run. All of this leaves Annie struggling to face some inconvenient truths about herself, her brother, and their relationship.

With scenic design by Edward T. Morris, costumes by Shelby-Lio Feeney, lighting design by Wen-Ling Liao, and sound design by Sara Huddleston, Jessica Holt has done an exquisite job of contrasting Annie's unrelenting rage with the more sober grief shared by the rest of the family. Martha Brigham gives a beautifully layered performance (helped by the scene in which Annie and Liam get stoned). Emilie Talbot and Emily Radosevich deliver strong support as Annie's mother and younger sister.

Martha Brigham (Annie) and Emily Radosevich (Macy) in a
scene from The Resting Place (Photo by: Jennifer Reiley)

James Carpenter's deeply moving portrayal of Mitch shows a devoted father struggling with a loss of innocence, confidence, faith, and community who (as his life is falling apart in front of him) must still be strong enough to stand up to Annie's bulldozing even if it means trying to shock his daughter out of her lack of sensitivity. A veteran Bay area actor, Carpenter rises to some powerful challenges to communicate Mitch's grief, shame, and tenderness without letting his family's tragedy destroy him.

When one looks at some of the intimate family dramas that have been awarded the Pulitzer Prize (Death of a Salesman, A Delicate Balance, The Subject Was Roses, Clybourne Park, August: Osage County), Halfnight's play does an equally impressive job of shining a lot on one of the unspoken issues our society keeps trying to sweep under the rug -- as well as focusing on the human devastation left in its wake.

Performances of The Resting Place continue through November 4 at the Magic Theatre (click here for tickets).

* * * * * * * * *

I'm often amused by what I learn from the juxtaposition of experiencing two radically different plays on successive nights at the theatre. When both works are world premieres, it offers a unique opportunity to appreciate each playwright's skill as a wordsmith, each director's strength in crafting an artistic vision and helping a cast bring that vision to life, and the design elements which frame each experience for the audience.

The San Francisco Playhouse is currently presenting the world premiere of graveyard shift while celebrating the 10th Anniversary of its Sandbox Series for new works. Directed with great fluidity by Melissa Crespo, the production is being staged at the Creativity Theatre near the Moscone Convention Center. Going from Ashlin Halfnight's intricate linear plotting and tersely-written script for The Resting Place to the wildly poetic arias written by Korde Arrington Tuttle for his two most impassioned characters leaves one in awe of how well these two theatre artists have conceived, engineered, and nurtured a dramatic event.

Sam Jackson as Janelle in a scene from graveyard shift
(Photo by: Jessica Palopoli)

Tuttle's one-act play focuses on two couples juggling a variety of critical issues. Janelle (Sam Jackson) has been stuck in Chicago for several years, applying for jobs which never materialize. Tired of maintaining a long-distance relationship, her boyfriend, Kane (Rondrell McCormick), is eager for her to join him in Texas. Bursting with passion and playfulness, Janelle refuses to make the move until she has a ring on her finger and a solid job offer.

When both demands finally materialize, the reality of how the move will alter the dynamic between the two long-term lovers raises some doubts about the risks one must take in order to get what one wants. One of those risks is Janelle packing up all of her belongings, placing them in a U-Haul, and leaving behind the safety and security of her comfort zone. The other is facing the perils that might arise for an African American couple during the 17-hour drive from Chicago to Prairie View, Texas.

Sam Jackson (Janelle) and Rondrell McCormick (Kane) in
a scene from graveyard shift (Photo by: Jessica Palopoli)

Down in Prairie View, the three white county police officers assigned to the graveyard shift have problems of their own.

• Brian (Max Carpenter) is a hot-headed young man who, though a married father with two children, has been trying to get one of his co-workers to move in with him. Short-tempered (and oozing toxic masculinity), he has recently been placed on probation and assigned to the graveyard shift as part of his punishment for doing something stupid enough to trigger an audit.
• Elise (Amanda Farbstein) is the object of Brian's questionable affection. A caring soul who has looked after several members of her family, she has been aiming toward the big day when she can quit her job and move to Nashville to pursue a career as a country singer. Knowing how explosive the results might be, she's been reluctant to tell Brian that she is pregnant.
• Trish (Gwen Loeb) is the department's late night supervisor. Older, wiser, and a lot more cynical than her co-workers, Trish is sympathetic to Elise's predicament and has a very low threshold for Brian's macho bullshit.

Amanda Farbstein (Elise) and Gwen Loeb (Trish) in a scene
from graveyard shift (Photo by: Jessica Palopoli)

San Francisco Playhouse's artistic director, Bill English, doesn't hesitate to explain why he was eager to present Tuttle's play to SFP's audience.

“In our never-ending quest to find plays which take us to deeper levels of empathy, discovering graveyard shift was a blessing. In the polarized world between alt-right and left, our nation and world have lost much of our capacity for understanding. We demonize those on the other side. We fail the ‘walk a mile in their shoes’ test, and so our civilization hurtles forward towards endless conflict and lack of understanding and compassion. Though we cannot condone racism and sexism, it is impossible to move toward a more just society until we can go into the heart of darkness to feel what it is like inside. Inside the one who has wronged you. Inside your enemy. Inside the incomprehensible. What is behind the evil that people do? What preconditioning, what fears, what insecurities drive hatred? Is understanding and forgiveness possible when terrible wrongs happen?”

Max Carpenter as Brian in a scene from graveyard shift
(Photo by: Jessica Palopoli)

“It is the courage of Mr. Tuttle to do just that that sets this work apart. We follow two groups of people, on wildly different trajectories, who are destined to collide, and we get to know them as human beings. We laugh with them, we yearn with them as they follow their dreams. Staging the play with separate locations interlocked in the same overlapping space also gives us the chance to feel how we are all, despite our differences, ingredients of the human stew. We cannot be so easily separated as we would like. We are stuck together on this planet, elbow bumping against elbow. We can feel each other’s breath, smell each other’s essence. We are going to have to learn to understand each other, or our world will continue spinning out of control into racial and sectarian calamity. In graveyard shift, Mr. Tuttle bravely leads us down the rabbit hole into our darker selves.”

Janelle (Sam Jackson) and Brian (Max Carpenter) cross paths at the
wrong time and in the wrong place in a scene from graveyard shift
(Photo by: Jessica Palopoli)

SFP's production is being staged while a concurrent workshop production is being presented at the Goodman Theatre in Chicago. With costumes by Madeline Berger, sound design by James Ard, and lighting design by Brittany Mellerson, the set design by Randy Wong-Westbrooke allows for segments of a giant wall to be removed during various scenes in order to allow for a view of the nighttime sky or show Brian trying to coax a raccoon out of an air shaft at the police station.

Max Carpenter (Brian) and Amanda Farbstein (Elise) are in a
tense relationship in graveyard shift (Photo by: Jessica Palopoli)

While the play could use a little tightening, it is blessed with incandescent performances by Sam Jackson and Rondrell McCormick that offer a stark contrast to Max Carpenter's stubborn cop and Amanda Farbstein's conflicted portrait of Elise. Gwen Loeb delivers a heaping load of comic relief.

Performances of Graveyard Shift continue through November 3 at the Creativity Theatre (click here for tickets).