SR review: “Queen of the Mist” at Firebrand Theatre
Firebrand Theatre’s staging roars, but Michael John LaChiusa’s musical about a forgotten Niagara daredevil stays in the shallows
Barbara E. Robertson, center, and the cast of Queen of the Mist
Firebrand Theatre’s staging roars, but Michael John LaChiusa’s musical about a forgotten Niagara daredevil stays in the shallows
Theater review by Kris Vire
In the early years of the 20th century, Niagara Falls was apparently the site of a cottage industry of daredevilry. The majestic waterfall on the U.S.-Canadian border was a hotbed for amateur adventurers seeking to make a name—and some money—for themselves with feats of Falls-driven derring-do. One such brave soul was a woman named Anna Edson Taylor, who in 1901, at age 63, became the first person to shoot the falls in a barrel and survive. Taylor’s deed netted her a brief flicker of fame, but not much income; she died, penniless, 20 years later.
Michael John LaChiusa’s 2011 musical Queen of the Mist, onstage at the Den in a Chicago premiere from Firebrand Theatre, takes Taylor as its subject. LaChiusa (The Wild Party, Marie Christine) presumably takes some inspiration from Joan Murray’s 1999 book-length poem of the same title, which portrayed Taylor’s life before and after the falls from a first-person perspective.
But in LaChiusa’s telling, Taylor remains an elusive figure despite her near-constant presence onstage. He sets her up in the opening number as literally elusive—we encounter her as a sort of Harold Hill–like con woman, establishing herself as a teacher of music, dance or “hygienics” in city after city, always eventually skipping town when the rent comes due. After she exhausts the hospitality of a sister in upstate New York, she lights on Niagara as a means to establish financial security. The play’s second act follows her through diminishing returns on the speaking rounds.
It’s little wonder she’s not much of a hit on the lecture circuit, since LaChiusa’s Anna (Barbara E. Robertson, projecting self-deluding gumption) clams up in seeming confusion whenever someone asks her the central question: What did it feel like when you went over the falls? Anna’s refrain throughout the show is “I have greatness in me,” but there’s not much insight into what lit that fire underneath her heart, or what set her on such a divergent path from her homemaker sister Jane (Neala Barron).
Barbara E. Robertson and Max J. Cervantes in Queen of the Mist
LaChiusa’s score, at least, offers his reliably dissonant beauty, if his lyrics can be clunkers (one number has Anna dissing her “haters” like a 21st-century pop star). Firebrand’s production, with the composer’s permission, reorchestrates the music for mostly female voices; only Anna’s conflicted manager, Frank, is played by a cisgender male actor (Max J. Cervantes).
Director Elizabeth Margolius’s dreamlike staging uses the Den’s awkwardly long-and-narrow Bookspan Theater more effectively than most productions I’ve seen in that space, with Lauren Nichols’s cleverly contoured set suggesting the confines of Anna’s barrel. Brenda Winstead outfits the cast in handsomely cool remixes of period styles, and I was particularly taken by the final moments of Act I, in which Margolius visually suggests Annie’s custom-designed carriage by surrounding Robertson with her castmates brandishing half-moon hoop bindings, wending to and fro as we imagine the barrel tumbling. But while the second act painstakingly recounts her post-Niagara frustrations, we just don’t get enough sense from LaChiusa of what sent Anna over the edge in the first place.
Queen of the Mist
Firebrand Theatre at the Den Theatre (1333 N Milwaukee Ave). Words and music by Michael John LaChiusa. Directed by Elizabeth Margolius. Music direction by Charlotte Rivard-Hoster. Orchestrations by Michael Starobin.
Cast: Barbara E. Robertson (Anna Edson Taylor), Max J. Cervantes (Frank Russell), Neala Barron (Jane and others), Liz Chidester (Carrie Nation and others), Hannah Starr (Young Soldier and others), Liz Bollar (New Manager and others), Maryam Abdi (Barker and others).
Designers: Lauren Nichols (scenic), Brenda Winstead (costumes), Cat Wilson (lighting), Carl Wahlstrom (sound), Wendy Huber (props).
Running time: 2 hours 30 minutes; one intermission. Through July 6. Tickets ($55) at firebrandtheatre.org.
Photographs by Michael Brosilow
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