“Joan and the Fire” reviewed by Jacob Davis

[rating=5] Joan of Arc is a symbol for nationalist crusaders, a religious icon, a mascot for dairy products, and has been a figure of fascination to dramatists of tragedy for hundreds of years. She was even a real person. As for what she might think of the way she’s been used, that’s the question Romanian-French author Matei Vişniec explored in his 2008 play Joan and the Fire. Trap Door theatre, which has gained a wealth of experience mounting Vişniec’s non-naturalistic works, is now debuting an original English translation in a production directed by Nicole Wiesner. It’s a show that features a multitalented ensemble, endlessly creative staging, and sweet, evocative original music by Danny Rockett, but is also deeply melancholic.

Joan is played by three actors: Cat Evans, Juliet Kang Huneke, and Emily Nichelson. How that works varies by scene, but each brings a distinctive energy to a multifaceted figure. The storyteller (Carolyn Benjamin) had been set on producing her own play about Joan when the real woman appears and complains that she doesn’t recognize herself in it. They agree to produce the story of Joan’s life from her own point of view, but not to function as simple mouthpieces for her. Instead, each scene will take a slightly different focus, and a different style. Throughout, there are interludes of a rector (Tia Pinson) at the University of Paris, which had supported the settlement imposed by Henry V and then awkwardly had to switch allegiance to Charles VII, massaging the primary sources and early accounts to reflect less badly on the victors.

Joan’s telling of her tale is heartbreakingly earnest. The earliest point at which we see her is when a monk leads her across a recent battlefield on her way to present herself to the Dauphin. These sights of carnage have been common in France for a hundred years but are new to her, as is the despair and casual cruelty of a thief she encounters (Lauren Fisher). And yet, this person is also the first one she brings hope to. The Dauphin (also Pinson) is hilariously unworthy of her loyalty, but going through a crisis of his own over whether he even is the rightful heir, and Joan’s intervention is framed as redemptive for him, as well. Joan eventually shares with him her childhood playing with the spirits of the forest (Emily Lotspeich) and she pictures the English leader, the Duke of Bedford (Manuela Rentea), as an evil overlord who entertains himself by tormenting his pet rats. All of this is played very sincerely, with Richard Norwood’s richly colored lighting maintaining a mood of awe along with Rockett’s music and Jeremy Lawrence’s poetic translation, but death and loss are ever-present. The personification of Death even appears in person to lead the people of Orleans in a danse macabre as they expect their city to fall to mercenaries who will be paid in plunder, and demonstrates why they would be desperate enough to want to believe in an unlikely savior.

There’s also a lot of humor in Wiesner’s directing, as well as moments of beauty, and even a few where we can share Joan’s unshakable sense of purpose. It isn’t just the story of a deluded, sheltered girl who got in over her head, although the show doesn’t shy away from that interpretation, exactly. An obvious irony of the script is that for all that Vişniec might want to center Joan, emphasize her agency, or make us uncomfortable by having her express a medieval mindset, he can’t show us the real her any more than Schiller, Shaw, Brecht, or Anouilh could. It’s also possible that Vişniec was responding to a narrative in France, where she can be invoked by pretty much anybody, that isn’t present in the United States. But there is still a lot of value in taking her own concept of herself seriously and avoiding the Creon-in-Antigone approach where the men who burned her become the protagonists. Joan and the Fire is an example of expert stagecraft and performances serving a troubling and moving story in a theatre whose intimacy and ingenuity make it the ideal setting.

Joan and the Fire will continue at Trap Door Theatre, 1655 W Cortland Ave, Chicago, thru April 15, at the following times:
Thursdays: 8:00 pm
Fridays: 8:00 pm
Saturdays: 8:00 pm

Running time is ninety minutes with no intermission.
Tickets are $25 with 2 for 1 admission on Thursdays. Visit Trap Door Theatre or call 773-384-0494 or email boxofficetrapdoor@gmail.com
To see what others are saying, go to Theatre in Chicago  , go to Review Round-Up and click “Joan and the Fire.”