Randuwa II: Woolly Mammoth Theatre: My Mama and the Full-scale Invasion

You know what I love about new plays? When they are well written, they take you to places you didn't expect to go. What might seem like a straight forward story of an elderly Ukrainian women refusing to leave her Kiev apartment after the full-scale invasion of her country by Russia, is actually the story of relationships. All good stories are. It is the relationship between a mother and her sometimes distant daughter. It is the relationship between that woman and her own mother. It is the relationship between that woman and her handful of husbands and lovers. But most importantly, in the end, it is the relationship that woman, Olga Ivanova, has to herself--a relationship that the play carries her through the war and many other world events in her lifetime to an epiphany.

"My Mama and the Full-Scale Invasion" by Sasha Denisova is about her relationship with her mother. It is also a world premiere production, and it is worthy of the presentation. What I feared before going was that it was going to be a pandantic treatise on the righteous victimization-hood of Ukraine by evil mother Russia. And certainly the lines between the good and bad players are drawn; however, through the lens of Olga's life and present eccentricities, we get the point and we see the nuances, too.

I did not recognize the actor, Suli Holum who plays the Daughter--a blatant representative for the playwright, Sasha. She is even called Sasha in the play, though listed as the Daughter in the credits. She opens the play and often acts as the narrator bridging the lapses in time (both moving forward and backward). Her presence and physicality were seamlessly engaging. She was unapologeticly the fulcrum that held the balance of the story in a tender equilibrium. Whenever things appeared to going off script, off kilter, off planet, she took the ball and brought it back on court.

Lindsay Smiling, in the role of "Man" started his tenure on stage as Olga's current husband--and quickly he became a kaleidoscope of other "men" in her life, other men in her fantasy life, (and at a couple of points even Olga's mother). A fantasy life painted for her by her daughter. Smiling when from an old lady to a hipster avant guarde film director, to the leaders of Germany, France, and, yes, even Biden--but wait! there's more--an alien overlord from outer space and finally the divinity himself, God. He was an amazing "Jack of all Roles".

And then there's Holly Twyford. The moment I opened the leaflet (no program--shit.) and saw that she was the lead my whole body took on a different air. A sense that whatever was to come, it would be amazing. And it absolutely was. Twyford is one of the standout actors in the DMV. Whatever she chooses to do, it will be done without hesitation and with a degree of authenticity that dissipates whatever she's done before with the wonder of this new thing, this utterly new person. That she was in an ensemble with such excellent supporting players created a synergy for theatre at its apex.

The sets were complex and as interesting as the story-line, with an attention to detail, a good some of which was only hinted at that it became in a way metaphor for the play writ large. If only the acting weren't so compelling, I would have had more time to consider all of the connections.

One distinctive aspect of the play was the use of real-time video projections. While even onstage, the Mother's face was projected large and unpolished presenting monologues in the form of video messages to her Daughter who was living in Poland. It was very effective, and extended the live performance in a way was equal parts unsettling and intimate.

All around one of the those nights that reminds you just how relevant, engaging, and magical live theatre can be.

Holly Twyford at Olga "The Mother"

Lindsay Smiling in one of his many roles as "The Man"

Holly Twyford and Suli Holum as "The Daughter"

How the use of projected images looked in the production

Olga in conversation with "Biden"

Olga about to assassinate Putin with a Jar of Pickles, a not-so-subtle reference to the downing of a Russian drown by a jar of pickles tossed by a grandmother in Kiev on March 8, 2022