Like Prospero in Shakespeare’s The Tempest, The Lady (Victoria Alvarez-Chacon) in Sara Jean Accuardi’s The Storyteller wears a magical cloak. Or, in this case, a fabulous patchwork jacket of vibrant colors embellished with stars and flowers.

The world premiere of this warm-hearted play, which won the 2023 Oregon Book Award for drama and is directed by Luan Schooler at Artists Repertory Theatre, explores constellations of intriguing themes. In just 90 minutes, it touches on grief, parenthood, and isolation, to name a few of its topics. Most compelling of all, though, is its exploration of the power of storytelling, encompassing how we change our stories to comfort or entertain, and who has the right to tell them.

At the start of the play, the magical Lady is in control. By simply clapping her hands, she can illuminate the set, not to mention conjure sounds like the river lapping against a dock or a foghorn-like music in the distance. With a blend of good humor and authority, she also places a camp chair on the stage and tells us to imagine it’s a car. “It’s nighttime and it’s raining,” she begins, only to continually stop and redirect her characters whenever they go rogue and try to steer her narrative in a different direction.

Inspired by The Tempest, her tale features the camo-dressed Paps (Isaac Lamb) and his daughter Randi (Sami Yacob-Andrus), who live off the grid in a ramshackle houseboat on the edge of the Columbia River. Like Shakespeare’s Prospero and his daughter Miranda, the two share an isolated existence away from society, in a place where Paps is the sole authority and keeps Randi enraptured by spinning tales about a star that “weaves color into the sky.”

“His motives are pure,” The Lady tells the audience, and it seems as if this is true. When she points to the sky, paper lanterns take on an amber glow, and even amongst the grubby ice chests and trash bags of cans in front of the pair’s dilapidated home, there’s a kind of enchantment to the father and daughter’s lives, especially when The Lady claps again, and the houseboat becomes illuminated by twinkle lights (Blanca Forzán designed the set and lighting).   

It’s a beguiling vision, unlike the despairing sight of sodden campsites on many a Portland sidewalk. You could even argue that in some ways, these two are living enviable lives, using their ingenuity to be free from the shackles of consumerism. For example, with the help of a smuggled Tiger Beat magazine, Randi figures out how to make her own lip tint out of Kool-Aid and water.

Of course nothing is that simplistic, because The Storyteller is too intricate to be a mere tale of magic or morality. When she was younger, Randi, with her “head full of stories and song,” adored her charismatic father. Then she whisks off her childlike blue and purple rain poncho and becomes a scowling 17-year-old who’s bored by his tired old fictions and longs to know the truth about her past. Being a teen, she also yearns for a life beyond their encampment – with school and friends and maybe even a romance.

Sponsor

The jovial Paps laughs off her discontent, while also making it clear she has no life without him. “You’re free to leave,” he tells her, then warns her of the dangers of the outside world, reminding us of Prospero, who is eager to keep Miranda to himself on their enchanted isle.

Further complicating things is the mysterious Jimmy (Darius Pierce). Dressed in a black leather jacket (the simple but expressive costumes are by Amanda Cardwell-Aiken), he keeps shaking the composure of the otherwise self-possessed Lady. It seems like she has all the power, but whenever he pops up, the ground she stands on seems to be as wavering as the river itself.

What is real and what is fantasy? And what happens when you believe your story is the truth … until you’re confronted with another version? The Storyteller steadfastly refrains from  pat answers, just as it refuses to tidily tuck itself into one category of drama. While it’s touched by tragedy, the play is also infused with the warmth of familial love as well as with gentle humor, especially with the introduction of Spencer (Mac Schonher), a pristine suburbanite who keeps a bottle of sanitizer on hand.

This duality is intentionally reflected in Accuardi’s writing, too. At times her script ripples with poetic repetition, while at others, the characters speak in our contemporary vernacular, such as when Paps refers to his high school English class, where they studied “Shakespeare and shit.”

Holding all these elements together are evocative sounds (designed and co-composed by the sound designer Matt Cherub and his associate Martín Aguas), which range from thunder to magical threads of music. Likewise, the compelling acting by the phenomenally talented cast, which also includes Lolly Ward as a mysterious friend named Tiff, holds our attention, even as The Lady continues to break the dream and address the audience. 

Despite this repeated reminder that what we’re watching isn’t real, we’re drawn into Accuardi’s story about storytelling, which is shown to be both dangerous and delightful.

***

Sponsor

The Storyteller continues at Artists Repertory Theatre, 1515 S.W. Morrison St., Portland, through May 18. Find tickets and schedule information here.