By Dessa Bayrock (The Cascade) – Email
Ready to Start: A Hobbit’s Tale
By Ali K. Shewan
Directed by Megan Mackenzie (UFV Alumnus)
Running time: 60 minutes
Showings: Friday at 7:30 p.m. and Sunday at 6:25 p.m.
Memorable lines: “I don’t care if Robert Plant is ten years older than my dad, I vow to marry that brilliant, British man one day!”
“Yes, I will always love you. Now get the hell out of my room!”
“Pretend my feet are hairy!”
Warnings: Minimal coarse language and some mature themes. Recommended for ages 13 and over.
First of all, this is not actually really about hobbits – but there is a scene where Shewan dons a cape and plays both Frodo and Samwise, so I’m assuming the hobbits are a metaphor.
Ali Shewan both wrote and stars in this one-woman show as Abby, a young woman entering adulthood and struggling with her mother’s bipolar disorder. Shewan effortlessly switches characters to present Abby’s six, eight, and seventeen-years-old self in brief but highly affecting flashbacks. This ability to switch characters mid-motion (while still keeping each character clearly separate from each other) particularly shines in the scenes where she has conversations with her mother – and plays both parts.
As a (semi-?) autobiographical piece, it holds all the complexity of real life. As Abby tidies her living room, props lead into stories from her childhood, touching on softball, what it means to have a best friend, Nelson Mandela, Led Zeppelin, Shakespeare, and (of course) Tolkien.
Shewan is always completely in the moment, and has a perfect grasp of timing. Because it draws so heavily on her own life experiences, the references and elements that are touched on sometimes trip over themselves. I choose to think of this, again, as an apt presentation of the complexity of life, and Shewan’s strong character presentation carries it through (although, at some points, sections seem out of place or transplanted from some other work. This happens with the Lord of the Rings excerpt, which involves a cape, a flowing gown, a section delivered entirely in Elvish, and an inspirational monologue by Samwise Gamgee.)
