What is it about Alaska Overnighters that makes them so addictive and enjoyable? I've been pondering the phenomenon for the year and a half since University of Alaska Anchorage theater graduate Dawson Moore introduced the concept to Anchorage.
Judging from the more than two dozen Overnighters -- conceived, written, cast, rehearsed and mounted in a 24-hour period -- that have been produced in Anchorage since summer 2002, they are more than a fad and most definitely a welcome trend. Their addictive quality, I've concluded, comes from the deadline atmosphere: Time pressure can spark flashes of genius in writers, directors and actors.
If you love theater, those occasional moments of genius are like high-quality heroin to a junkie. And last weekend's two evenings of eight plays, while not as blindingly brilliant as some earlier Overnighters, contained numerous high points. Beyond their entertainment value, those high points show the playwrights, directors and actors what they are really capable of. When the productions work, they are proof of the depth of Anchorage talent. When they don't quite work, they are proof that the 24-hour play requires the highest level of directing and acting experience.
The most recent Alaska Overnighters event was co-produced by Three Wise Monkeys Theatre Company of San Francisco (in the person of Moore) and TBA Theatre and performed on the UAA Mainstage. The playwrights were each given a "focus," which this time was phrases such as "all is calm, all is bright" and "city sidewalks, busy sidewalks."
From what I've been able to learn, Anchorage is right behind New York and San Francisco in discovering and adopting the overnight idea.
In a September New York Times article, the 24-hour play phenomenon was examined by writer Robin Finn in an interview with producer Tina Fallon, whose 24 Hour Company has been doing 24-hour shows since 1995. Fallon told Finn, "Too much time and money is wasted (in conventional theater). This is a production manager's dream."
The idea probably also has roots in play-writing classes. At last summer's Last Frontier Theatre Conference in Valdez, Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright and teacher Paula Vogel described an assignment she gives her Brown University students that sounded a lot like the 24-hour play.
Naturally, the 24-hour concept would be most welcome in New York City, where countless experienced actors and directors clamor for roles and where mounting a full production costs many thousands and often millions of dollars.
For Anchorage, the 24-hour concept suits many of our actors and directors because they can practice their art, work their day jobs and still have a family or social life. It's hard to commit to up to two months' rehearsing and performing a play for which they probably will earn little or no compensation. Spending a weekend being creative -- even under great pressure -- is a much better deal.
Most of the scripts last weekend were imaginative, creative and well-structured. My favorites were Arlitia Jones' "What the Mountain Keeps," a spooky spelunking adventure directed by Erin Dagon; "Christmas at Ground Zero" by Ann Reddig, sensitively directed by Paul Schweigert and with excellent acting by Schweigert, Lesley Borkowski, Billy Worthy, Regina MacDonald and Karen Lauer; Linda Billington's "Pilates of the Caribbean," directed by Schatzie Schaefers, with a full-out, choreographed sword fight; "Tinkle Bells," a dark comedy by Jill Bess, directed by Mike Daniels; and "Virginia, Alabama & a Bit Beyond," by Moore, directed by Jill Yarbrough and featuring Sara Waisanen, Paul Brynner and Regina MacDonald in a darkly humorous, twisted tale of sibling rivalry -- or perhaps love.
Other plays were Wendy Withrow's "Only a Hippopotamus Will Do," which was more of a "situation" than a play; Dennis Cleary's "A Christmas Quarrel," a great idea -- what does Santa's family do on Christmas Eve? -- that didn't quite come off due to slow timing; and Dave Block's "Die Another Day Again With Love," a cartoony but plot-deficient "Charlie's Angels" parody.
But even with those reservations, all the playwrights, directors and actors (and crew) should feel proud. Doing a 24-hour play takes more courage than jumping naked from a plane at 10,000 feet, free-falling for 9,000 of those feet and depending on a flimsy parachute for survival. For artists, the parachute is themselves. While all of them didn't land exactly on the mark Saturday and Sunday, they all landed safely.
What a rush. I hope the Alaska Overnighters are here to stay.
Catherine Stadem is a fellow of the National Critics Institute and a member of the American Theatre Critics Association.
Review
Alaska Overnighters, University of Alaska Anchorage
