Ancient aesthetics, a twist of the modern
As diverse as the Bay Area is, its theatrical offerings can feel overwhelmingly Western: performances driven by psychological realism, the fourth wall, plots with Aristotelian beginnings, middles and ends, and unities of time and place.
Enter new company Kunoichi Productions, whose first in-person production, “Never Mind,” I saw Saturday, Dec. 10. “Kunoichi” translates to “female ninja,” co-founder and show co-director Keiko Shimoshato Carreiro told the audience in a preshow speech at NohSpace, and there is indeed a zany display of swordplay by Irene (Anne Yumi Kobori) in Ai Aida’s play.
Just as striking, Kunoichi Productions is dedicated to Japanese aesthetics, blending centuries-old practices and contemporary sensibilities. At “Never Mind,” whose world premiere is presented in association with Theatre of Yugen, fans of traditional Japanese theater will notice historical hallmarks — a large tree painted upstage, a focus on an anguished woman and disturbed ghosts — but without the practices that many Western audiences find challenging, such as ritualized movements performed extremely, exquisitely slowly.
Instead, “Never Mind” opens in the ripeness of the present. During a surprise phone call from Jimmy (Michael Carreiro) to ex-wife Irene, she, justifying plans to leave the world behind and seek enlightenment in a monastery, says some of the truest words uttered on any stage in recent memory: “It’s so hard to be OK these days.”
At its best, the show makes a gleeful case for circular logic. Especially successful are scenes between Irene and Master Mu, who in Yuki Goto’s beguiling embodiment sounds a bit like the “Who are you?” caterpillar of “Alice in Wonderland.”
Mu deploys his saucer-large eyes with studied precision, dropping one expression violently, almost with a crash, while letting another flash
across his face as lightning reveals a storm cloud. During his meditation sessions, Goto savors inhalations as if they’re tasty morsels. And in another delightful bit, Irene’s grandfather (Ron Munekawa) appears as a ghost, in full robed regalia, complete with sword, to tell her that incontrovertible truth that all bohemian young people dread hearing from their ancestors: “Go. Get. A. Job.”
But “Never Mind” clunks, its lines of exposition plopped in with little evident effort to conceal their seams. Co-directors Keiko Shimoshato Carreiro and Nick Ishimaru haven’t yet found the tone that would clarify how much we’re supposed to sympathize or laugh at the hopeless Irene, who keeps insisting she wants enlightenment but can’t concentrate on anything for more than a couple seconds.
Many other moments feel off. When Irene and Jimmy talk for the first time since they got divorced six months ago, the actors are weirdly casual and unbothered about it, but not so exaggeratedly that we realize we’re not supposed to take them seriously. It’s more as if they’re not totally sure yet what their attitude toward their characters and situation is supposed to be.
What’s more, Irene evidently finds tension between her Japanese and American identities, but the show deals with that idea so glancingly that it never has time to land, let alone develop.
Still, with “Never Mind,” Kunoichi Productions distinguishes itself as an exciting entrant in the Bay Area theater scene that promises to expand the region’s notion of what theater is and where it can come from.