By Ron Fassler . . .
With so many divisive stances being taken on a multitude of life-or-death matters in our country right now, the third rail of issues might still be gun control. Last year, America ranked number one for rates of firearm homicides among high-income countries with populations over 10 million—disastrous for a nation of supposedly civilized people. Even weighed down by legal expenses stemming from corruption scandals and significant drops in membership and donations, the NRA (National Rifle Association) still wields enormous power in the halls of Congress. Their influence has kept it possible for nearly anyone to purchase assault weapons legally, even after 20-year-old Adam Lanza murdered 20 innocent children in 2012 at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut.
The knowledge that and her Children is a one-person play whose sole character is a spokesperson for the NRA didn’t necessarily fill me with joy at the prospect of seeing it. However, it did raise my interest. Currently in a limited engagement at the SoHo Rep downtown, it follows a world premiere last June at the Hollywood Fringe Festival in Los Angeles, where it won multiple awards. And what Rosie Glen-Lambert and Hailey McAfee have done in the writing of their intimate drama is keep the pot boiling throughout its tension-filled 85 minutes, is smart. McAfee portrays Anna Fierling, the identical name as that of the title character in Bertolt Brecht’s play, Mother Courage and Her Children, which he co-authored in 1939 with Margarete Steffin. Considered a masterpiece of 20th century playwriting, what Glen-Lambert and McAfee accomplish is not so much a direct update, but a useful borrowing of Mother Courage’s character arc. Here we have another Anna Fierling, presented as someone who will do anything during a raging war to protect her family, even if it means becoming directly responsible for losing each of them in battle.
The play is staged as if we are the audience for one of the speeches Anna is paid for by the NRA to deliver such never-ending excuses as “Guns don’t kill people, people kill people.” Then, at some point, it seems as if a shift occurs where we’re not really experiencing what Anna is saying but more of what her subconscious is revealing, which makes for a clever twist. While what Anna says becomes more and more self-focused, it’s the honesty that tumbles out which seems to catch her by surprise. However, this woman who is seemingly in for a penny/in for a pound, simply can’t stop herself. What transpires becomes more horrifying with each confession, with Anna not so much trying to convince herself that she had no choice, but that if granted a do-over, she would do things the same way again. At least that’s what I got from it. I wouldn’t be surprised if others have different perspectives, providing even more of a potent reason that and her Children should be seen.
As our unreliable narrator, Hailey McAfee uses her natural charm to beguile us, but there are numerous cracks behind the mask that tell us we’re not getting the full story. By turns she is flirty, antagonistic, preposterous, and sometimes downright cruel. One is reminded of such talking heads on news shows as Laura Ingraham or Megan Kelly, whose masks barely conceal their manipulative soullessness. McAfee is joined briefly at the start and finish by a violinist (Julia Hoffmann) who, even with a non-speaking role, allows her face and body language to convey significant meaning.
Agitprop theatre sometimes gets a bad a name for either being too preachy or simply preaching to the converted. But when it’s drawn in bold, dramatic strokes in the manner that playwrights Glen-Lambert and McAfee have fashioned here, you get something special. and her Children doesn’t settle for being merely provocative. Instead, it inflames with a hot desire for social change. More power to it.
“… and her Children” is at the SoHo Rep, 15 Vandam Street, NYC through February 22. For information on future programming, please visit: https://www.sohoplayhouse.com/see-a-show/and-her-children
Photos by Ian McQueen.
