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The second night of Speculative Drama's The Skin Coat was a rarity in the theater world: Almost everyone in the audience appeared to be under 25.
Maybe it's because the warehouse venue, the Steep and Thorny Way to Heaven, hosts darkwave dance parties post-show, or maybe it's because of the company's DIY ethos—it doesn't have the support of big-name donors, which means a smaller budget but also substantial creative distance from the tastes of moneyed art-world types and the typical theatergoer.
It's a freedom the company flaunts. The Skin Coat is completely wordless and adapted from the German equivalent of Cinderella, but without the evil step family and with an added incest attempt. Disguised by a fur coat given to her by a witch (Megan Skye Hale), a princess (Peyton McCandless) runs away from home after her father, driven mad by the death of her mother, attempts to marry her. She ends up in another kingdom where she befriends the prince (Zed Jones). They fall in love when she attends a ball without her coat, but she runs away at the end of the night.
The play's Facebook page features a long list of contemporary staging techniques: found-object seating; site-specific staging; immersive, devised and movement-heavy theater. But the physical production is actually very simple. There's no set except for a crate, two goblets and, in one scene, a pillow. There is virtually no lighting variation, and the songs all play at the same loud volume. This creates a lo-fi edge, which, instead of seeming as if the company is trying to fabricate aesthetic cred, actually feels kind of earnest, like it's another way the company is exercising its creative inhibition.
The narrative is fleshed out through slow, dramatic gestures and vibey Icelandic music. It's almost like an extended music video: It's more about a mood produced by both movement and music than it is about detailed plot or characterization.
It's also helped along by the fact that McCandless has extremely expressive eyes. When the princess first puts on her fur coat, she looks at herself in the mirror with a wide-eyed expression that's somewhere between amazement and fear.
But that's about as ambiguous as the play gets. Most of the gestures and expressions clearly convey what's going on, which is impressive given the absence of words, but it makes the experience somewhat one-dimensional. After the princess runs away from the ball for the first time, the prince later finds her hiding in plain sight with the help of her fur coat. He stares dreamily as he gestures with his arms in sweeping movements, signifying he's the one talking. Meanwhile, the princess's eyes widen as she leans forward excitedly: Clearly, the prince is saying some very complimentary things about the girl he's just met at the ball.
It's simple yet ingenious staging, and there is something rewarding about understanding wordless interactions. But it doesn't seem as if there's more to get out of it beyond the fact that it works. The Skin Coat's theatrical possibilities don't seem fully realized, but arguably that's another benefit of their freedom: Their experimentation doesn't have to reach a conclusion.
SEE IT: The Skin Coat plays at the Steep and Thorny Way to Heaven, Southeast 2nd Avenue and Hawthorne Boulevard, thesteepandthornywaytoheaven.com. 8 pm Thursday-Saturday, through March 11. $12-$20, RSVP required.