Tag: reviews

  • The Nationless State of Junktopia

    I walked with hesitation down the path towards the Junktopia Alter, a place of worship that guarded The Great Bridge.

    A montage of artifacts walked the pathway without moving a muscle. The longitude and latitude flashed transparently in the heads-up display of my spectacles.  

    I imagined the smell of lavender hovering in the bay.

    In the distance the Bridge stood colorless, in need of recognition of its emptiness.

    The memory hurled me to the day The Great Bridge almost collapsed.

    The eyes of the unconscious biplane looked oppositionally at the myopic cockatoo that sat on my shoulder.

    My bird recognized the fascist symbol painted on the wheel of the biplane as a warning to go no further.

    My amygdala said “Run!” but I persisted onward.

    In the distance the Junktopia Alter remained its original color of distressed and burnt Tuscany auburn; looking like it was primed for a top coat of blood red paint.

    I thought of Catch 22 and its airplane that flew detached from the war without Yossarian on board who was long dead as a character and forgotten by middle school teachers and students.

    Along the path, a false messiah perched in a lifeless tree called to me longingly, beckoning for an apostle to gather a flock of followers.

    Her fuchsia and dark black mesh wings, torn and ravaged, desperately flapped in the turbine powered mechanical wind of capitalistic rule dominating the newly formed nationless state of Junktopia.

    In the distance, the lime, swampy grasslands filled with abandonment stood as shelter for the birds that no longer could fly. The decibels soaring from the speakers increased, projecting the vibrational reminiscence of the biplanes menacing history preparing to drop its deadly cargo on the unsuspecting living things resting below.

    I approached the alter and the vacant, ornamental glass bottles that guided the unlighted path began to shatter from the sonic sounds spilling overhead, the speakers positioned ubiquitously on the bridge.

    Jagged fragments threatened my jugular while the unsympathetic marsh called to me with a menacing howl.

    One, razor sharp, ragged edge of a fragmented bottle neck hung from the bridge rafters by a wire hangman’s noose; its rusted metal screw top like a decapitated democratic statesman, his fellow, screw top public servants looked on from the gallery.

    I had abandoned my map on the battlefield and my cell phone no longer recognized a charged. I felt lost although I was not.

    The Republic now rests as fragments of shattered glass reflected as graven images in the birds eye.

    The fascist symbol painted on the tail of the biplane, a relic of the final war, roared: “the number twelve,” with the sharpness of two major league football helmets cracking in collision. “The twelfth man,” it called out silently, a rhetorical souvenir of the war. “The fans did not offer a home advantage,” I shouted back.

    The weathered alter walls made of wooden fish bone skeletons were rotted from the salt sea air. I bowed down to the god of technology. The empty tin-soup-can minarets stood as apostates and a reminder that rations must be earned by the labors of my cellophane hope.

    I waited for the signal to perform the requisite incantations. The white whisker entrails of the metallic stork swimming in the expansive future flapped in the mechanical breeze along with the Messiah’s wings. The five-feet tall, hand-made paper stork hovering nearby narcissistically mocked its own self-absorbed symbol of fertility.

    No one knew how or when the Kangaroos had arrived in Junktopia.

    But, like the nationless human inhabitants, they were there to stay, because no one else wanted them.

  • “Let the Right One In”

    C.U. Presents closed its modern vampire love story to a packed house at the University of Colorado Loft Theatre in Boulder.

    Director Heather Kelley’s adaption of Jack Thorne’s play “Let the Right One In” completed its run to a sold-out theater on Sunday, Oct. 20, at the University of Colorado Loft Theatre.

    Based on the novel by John Ajvide Lindqvist, first love, sexual intimidation, and school bullying transcend the borders of time and space in “Let the Right One In.” Eli, a 200-year-old vampire fixed at the age of 12, befriends Oskar, their 13-year-old neighbor, on the playground where Eli is bullied by schoolmates in 1981 Sweden.

    The childhood friendship between Eli and Oskar is complex, creating “a dynamic narrative that centers on empathy and fighting for each other despite all the blood and scars,” Brosnan Bustamante, the stage manager said.

    Let the Right One In ”is a macabre story with a happy ending,” Scenic Designer, Haley Delich, a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Design, Technology, and Management said. Oskar is “dealing with bullying and first love,” and Eli “is trapped with the body and the mind of a child.”

    When Hakan dies, Oskar becomes Eli’s new companion, giving purpose to their lives.

    Situated in 1981 Blackeberg, Sweden, the playgrond was the setting where Hakan, Eli’s parent figure, killed and procured blood from his victims for the thirsty 12-year-old child.

    The emotional topics of the play demanded that stage manager Brosnan Bustamante, a C.U. student, ensure a smooth production. Brosnan prioritized a supportive environment. He minimized stress to keep the team focused on the performance.

    “It’s crucial that the stage, cast, and crew are functioning smoothly, especially in a production that is emotionally intense and technically demanding,” Bustamante said.

    Filled with death, blood and bulling, the setting is ironic as a playground but fitting as a place of horror, where children act as monsters.

    Delich designed the set to evoke a “bit of the horrors of growing up and outgrowing the playground,” she said.

    The cast of “Let the Right One In” take a bow at the close of their successful run.

    The minimalistic rusted monkey bar set, designed by Delich, was intended to “mirror the stark lives of the characters,” she said. The characters had outgrown the playground but were emotionally stuck in their childhood experiences where they faced bulling and isolation everyday in “Let the Right One In.”

    The 2024 C.U. Presents, “Let the Right One In,” is part of the Artists Series, which spans over 80 years on campus. Kelley is pursuing a PhD in Theatre & Performance Studies at C.U. Boulder.

    University Theatre Building, 261 University of Colorado, Boulder, CO 80302