“American Bottom” ( an audio book) reviewed by Julia W. Rath

Somewhat recommended ** “Verticals are most likely this horizontal.” “Push the rewind; watch it backwards.” “Rise up on the cornstalks; all very shimmer.” “He was eating all the peppers but didn’t see the beets.”

The producers consider “American Bottom” to be an “experimental audio book.” This is the kind of show that might appeal to those who enjoy sitting in front of a campfire on a summer’s night and going around in a circle and listening to whatever someone else might have to say—and however long it takes for them to say it. “American Bottom”, however, takes this one step better: All the poetry and prose is rehearsed and deliberate and made available to your computer or cell phone—and surprise, surprise, there really is an ending!

Writer Brett Neveu and director Neil Verma have put together an hour-and-a-half collection of audio short stories, poetry, songs, and bits and pieces of authentic dialogue. Some are introspective, some extrospective, with each chapter answering a different question. There is some overarching theme to these vignettes but not necessarily any real connection between all of them. The show feels more like a 1960’s happening, and we happen upon the narrators, singers, and poets; it’s also a bit like an early 2000’s poetry slam, although some of the pieces are not poetry—but could be. Each of the chapters are narrated by different people, and the string of them seem to be assembled by virtue of how different one is from the next. Ruminations and contemplations on language abound. Some chapters have little rhyme or reason; others have a fascination with certain words or invented words and how changing their order or their predicate changes their meaning; still others are just illogical sequences to elicit a reaction; and some segments tell logical stories that may or may not go anywhere; and, yes, there are some parts that are quite good: a clever anecdote or contraposition or contemplation on life.

This audio/video compilation takes place on YouTube, and the audience is given three choices: watching the video or listening to the high-definition audio or the .mp3 version. Just make sure you make only one selection. (In other words, you do not have to synch up the video with the audio!) My recommendation is to choose the video option, because the artwork provides a bit more grounding to the program, considering that there is an array of so many short and uneven snippets. Rich Spark’s drawings are nicely done and often quite creative, although some of the art can be a bit repetitive when it need not be. The singing voices are stirring and beautiful. The musical accompaniment is terrific, thanks to the fine work of Matthew Muñiz. The piano compositions are especially lovely. Above all, the clarity of the sound, mastered for this production, is exceptional; the normalization is perfect, due to the efforts of Verma and Frankie Pedersen, who also is responsible for the video production. The only real complaint with the stream is that, from time to time, there are often too many blank screens for too long of a period—and that is intentional on the part of the creators: made up collectively of Neveu, Verma, Muñiz, Sparks, Pedersen, and Ele Matelan (on Foley).

The show is one long and ponderous exercise: For the audience, it’s a matter of spearing the right fish in the barrel and picking out the most succulent parts. For the performers, this was a drill in the use, function, and meaning of spoken English and the uses of repetition within and between chapters. For example, in the course of watching the stream, we realize that Chapter 14 “The Kaskaskia Tapes” and Chapter 19 “The Parable of the Rabbit and the Hornet” is a throwback to the prologue, and at first, we don’t understand why these have been given such prominence, except the theme for both segments is “We’re going to live in this moment.” Perhaps that’s what this entire remote performance is all about. And so are the ideas of the star house and the star woman, which come together (somewhat) in Chapter 23, “The Story of the Motherload Kevin” and Chapter 24 “The Secret of the House.” I am still baffled by the title of the show “American Bottom”, except that it appeared to be some rubric under which some chapters that didn’t fit the story could be made to somehow fit.

In Chapter 12, called “The Final Acts”, numerous and sundry people on earth don’t know that their lives are going to end when they do. “The gods said, ‘Times up.’” And so ends this review.

“American Bottom” is being presented by A Red Orchid Theatre Company and is available for online viewing via their website https://aredorchidtheatre.org/ through June 27, 2021.

Tickets are $15 each, and the show can be viewed on-demand at any time during its run (despite what the ticketing site seems to indicate). Go to https://aredorchidtheatre.org/ab-info/ in order to purchase tickets.

To see what others are saying, visit, http://www.theatreinchicago.com go to Review Round-Up and click at “American Bottom”.