[img]2515|right|||no_popup[/img]In anticipation of Theatre by the Blind’s Walk Me Home, I was cautioned (twice!) to be gentle and keep in mind that this is not a professional acting troupe. Setting aside the implication, intentional or otherwise, that I might be an unusually tough critic, the warnings were unnecessary. Professionalism isn’t an indispensable hallmark of good theatre, rendering moot the arguably condescending prerequisite to lower expectations or relax the critical standards against which all theatrical productions are measured.
As with all but the most masterful pieces of theatre, Walk Me Home has its share of elements that could be done differently and better. Characterizations could benefit from additional dimensions, for example, and the open-ended climax could be more tightly framed around the specifics of the core drama rather than general observations. Yet unlike many so-called “professional” productions, a way of referring to better funded productions with experienced and trained card-carrying union performers, Walk Me Home holds the two essential qualities of good theatre: A genuinely human story to tell and heartfelt conviction in telling it.
This pontification may sound alarmingly like the rationale offered for non-scoring sports activities for children, but that’s the wrong conclusion to draw. Rather, the point is that this isn’t a play that warrants being treated like a crisis in appreciation, let alone art criticism methodology. Yes, Theatre by the Blind is a valuable project of CRE Outreach, which aims to empower blind individuals through the performing arts. That is tangential to its worthiness of being placed on the same level as any other acting troupe. The same applies to its productions.
And so here we are in the intimate space of Santa Monica’s Promenade Playhouse, which I’ve affectionately come to think of as my favourite hole-in-the-wall dive theatre. Theatre by the Blind offers us a poignant story about two blind teenagers who form an unexpected bond in their last year of high school, only to find that bond challenged by family dynamics and the inevitable changes that come as high school gives way to college.
As the young romantics, Megan Miller and Connor Head imbue their roles with tender adolescent angst and optimism. Surrounding them is a delightful cast. Maria Perez occupies the literal head of the class in the role of a supportive and insightful teacher, while Ernest Pipoly enjoys a marked advantage as crowd-pleaser on account of a role laced with comic relief. Although the narrative work share is not evenly distributed among characters, each actor makes as much of an impact as Caitlin Hernandez’s script allows, often more so. Much like the book that serves as the play’s metaphorical anchor, Jonathan Livingston Seagull, the end result of the cast, crew, and playwright’s efforts is a feeling of buoyancy. Most importantly, the production offers us a glimpse into the characters whose life stories are eminently relatable.
Like a shining indie film adrift in a sea of noisy Hollywood blockbusters, this theatrical gem deserves to be discovered amidst all the city’s productions. It may take a bit of an effort to schlep through the Santa Monica’s increasingly congested traffic, but it’s worth it.
Walk Me Home, a CRE Outreach Production. Written by Caitlin Hernandez. Directed by Greg Shane. On stage at Santa Monica's Promenade Playhouse until March 16th. For information and tickets, visit www.creoutreach.org.
Frédérik Sisa is the Page's Assistant Editor and Resident Art Critic. He is also a tweeting luddite and occasional blogger, and can be reached at fsisa@thefrontpageonline.com.
