Mouse in a Jar

Critiqued by Holly Bartges

Why would anyone want to put a mouse in a jar?

Trina Magness in Lida's production of Mouse in a Jar Photo credit: Erin Preston

Macabre humor?

Control?

Power?

Someone did, and it didn't work out very well.

"One day this guy, he takes a mouse-picks it off the world like a weed, like a rose-'n he puts it in a jar". Day after day after day after-------.

Under the sensitive and astute direction of Julie Rada, the Lida Project opened last weekend with Martyna Majok's disturbing, mind-boggling, and beautifully effective play, Mouse In A Jar.

Featuring Janna Meiring as Zosia, Ketleen Shadow as Doga, Trina Magness as Ma, and Lorenzo Sarinana as Boy, the eerie, sometime frightening, once in a while humorous, and always nerve-wracking production takes a serious look at freedom, bondage, slavery, mind control, and "destructive helping", through a gorgeous spine-chilling dance of life. Raising more questions than answers, the multi-level issued production teases the mind into crackling thought; provoking ideas long after the definitive characters disappear into oblivion. Because of its poetical nuances, because of the issues Mouse conjures, because of the impressive staging, because of the exquisite performances from the stunning cast, Mouse In A Jar becomes an extremely important piece of work.

With our political-turmoiled-war-infected-economy-stretched-bi-partizan-for-the-sake-of-bi-partizanship-upside-down society, this dazzling production should be a must see for all thinking people wanting a blast of imaginative mind stretching. Aie-e-e not so much to question, but to give pondering room to breathe. Moue hits us hard where oh, so many people live.

The cast performs on a set constructed in the round with various sized poles outlining a circle, a dirt cover in the center, and a platform the characters play on and under. Designed by Nicholas Kargel, the set suggests a variety of levels. Is the roundness reminiscent of a jar, a cage, and an emptiness?

It opens itself to a variety of interpretations with multi level considerations. A mouse in a jar lives in bondage, with very few choices. Some, but few.

Not only does the mouse have to contend with captivity in unnatural circumstances, it has to live with the fear of an extreme loud noise coming every night at midnight. It learns the noise will come, and it shivers in fearful anticipation. Then it just knows the noise will come, rattling its nervous system. Major question. After it has becomes acclimated to its surroundings, would it leave if the lid were taken off off? Some. Undoubtedly would immediately say yes, but would it? Maybe after a couple of nights, but what if the torment went on for what would be considered a long time for a mouse? Then would it? Or would it become so acclimated to its surroundings, it would simply acquiesce until it simply has to give up ad die?

The production explores the situation on a variety of different levels. The more one thinks about it, the more levels appear.

There's the bondage in war and the abuse. Abuse and bondage exists politically, within the ranks of a specified community, within a family, within relationships, casual and otherwise, within work situations, businesses, academia. Where people live, abuse and bondage can and do exist physically emotionally, mentally, and ah, financially. "Do what I say, when I say it; give me what I want when I want it, or else-----." This can be accomplished with a smile, a threat, a-bomb, brute strength, all included under power and authority. It can occur wherever war tears a country to shreds, or it can occur in peaceful, tree-lined suburbia, or in the "hecticinity" of a down town metropolis.

Zosia (Meiring) stands on a platform and begins "Before she was my mother" there is talk of a basement, and boots, and Him. Brash lighting strikes her across the face, and her eyes speaks the emotion hidden behind the words.

Doga (Shadow) joins her with the same memories. They call to Ma (Magness) for the promise of leaving tomorrow. Ma says nothing, but her eyes speak.

Along with the brisk, sharp lighting designed by Steven J. Deidel, the eyes are as vital as the characters. They laugh, they scream, they duck in horror, cower in fear, and dance in strange hope. Every one of the four cast members develops an eye power almost capable of telling the story on their own.

Every move by the characters has been carefully choreographed down to each eyebrow; every line in the face, and the horror story becomes a dance of life.

Periodically a loud sound comes from off stage and a bright light, and the characters freeze.

In the distance the sounds of bombs dropping.

Tomorrow they will leave. Tomorrow never comes, at least for Ma. She says she will. She promises, but watch her eyes. They tell a different story. Zosia and Doga do leave. Ma stands chained at the stove cooking, once in a while responding to the loud noise and bright light, greeting Him, dancing through the signified rape. He comes every night at 9:00 PM. She knows. She waits. The light blinds her. The loud noise freezes her, and there she is for Him.

She can always unhook the chain, but never leaves.

After three years, Doga returns, her sister lost somewhere. Killed? Most likely. Determined to save Ma, determined to get her to leave, Doga stays, entranced, enslaved held hostage by her mother’s captivated bondage. Freedom lies just outside the door. Does it?

Doga stays to help her mother escape, but she won't leave. She's bound, gagged, blindfolded and caged for her own good, to help her, Doga says. Halfway through the 80-minute production, a fourth character emerges as Boy (Sarinana). Doga solicits his help in taking care of Ma. By taking care of her they enslave her more, while Ma takes it all in stride. At least, appears to, although her eyes, again, tell a different story.

Continuing to live in a basement, the people upstairs ignore the noise. Probably just another mouse.

Brian Freeland's sound design sends shivers as much as the words do, as much as the beautiful choreographed movement encased in graceful execution. Her eyes carry on a long interrupted conversation in silence speaking reams of abuse, bondage, acceptance, and fear of leaving.

Politically one side blames the other, while the same tactics appear on their side. War brings about is own bondage, and slavery, intimidation, fear and acknowledgement. Every day, somewhere domestic abuse is reported. No one does anything until one is thrown over the brink. By now it is a well-known fact why abused people don't and can't leave. Whether in a serious committed relationship, casual friendship, family expectations, guilt-laden apron strings, war torn power, or threatening authority, it raises questions of freedom and the price, and why freedom is shunned, and abuse is delivered all for the sake of helping.

Musically induced poetry, you can hear the music while the actors lives their lines. The cast is magnificent. The direction meaningfully designed to hold your breath. You cannot take your eyes off of them while thoughts ponder freedom and bondage on every level that avails itself.

And then there's the mouse, in a jar. An image that will not want to go away any time soon.

Mouse In A Jar
By Martyna Majok; directed by Julie Rada