Twilight’s Enigmatic, Timely  Anatomy of Gray

The first time I saw playwright Jim Leonard’s Anatomy of Gray, in 2017, I was intrigued by the play’s multilayered approach but was ultimately able to peg it as a mysterious plague being used as an allegory about the AIDS epidemic. I enjoyed the play’s extensive use of humor to leaven the underlying pain, and harkened back to my emotional response to the early days of AIDS and its impact. However, seeing Twilight Theater Company’s 2022 production was a whole new experience for me. After some reflection I decided that the difference is rooted in my relationship to the two very different “plagues” that have colored my adult life. AIDS? Tragic, upsetting, but essentially separate from my everyday life. Covid-19, on the other hand, has been all too immediate for most of us, and we’ve been denied the dubious comfort of “otherness” about the victims. Even if you’ve seen Anatomy of Gray before, the current production merits a second look.

The show takes place in a slightly surreal world peopled by the nineteenth century townspeople of Gray, Indiana – a place emblematic of the close-minded but self-proclaimed salt of the earth communities that littered a country on the verge of, and fiercely resisting, a vast scientific awakening.  Fifteen year old June Muldoon, whose father suddenly died of a mysterious illness, is lamenting her totally boring life in this boring town; grieving about her father and hoping for a little action, she writes a letter to God asking him to send a doctor to town. A fierce storm arrives, and in blows balloonist Dr. Galen Gray, a beacon of enlightenment from the outside world (and a ray of hope for June).  The xenophobic Pastor Phineas Wingfield is suspicious of the newcomer – Gray is attractive, educated, and modern, but he’s Jewish. When locals begin to sicken and die from inexplicable deadly lesions, many follow the pastor’s lead and blame the newcomer. When lesions are discovered on June’s mom Rebekah, only three people are free of infection – June, Dr. Gray, and a love-struck, soda pop loving young yokel named Homer.  Take my word for it – courtesy of some very crisp writing and some great physical comedy, the show is both more moving and more fun than it sounds!

Director Alicia Turvin has assembled an evenly capable cast, with some real standout performances in lead roles.  As Homer, the simple farm boy who’s loony for June, Ryan Larson is perfectly pathetic, but he earns the audience’s sympathy with his earnest devotion. Arun Kumar is wonderful as the narrow-minded Pastor Wingfield, and he oozes the confidence that can only be found in the truly ignorant. His epic battle with kidney stones is the funniest scene in the play, and he maintains his steadfastly bombastic idiocy throughout.  

Three key actors provide the solid foundation required to tell the story. Noelle Guest is quietly compelling as the widowed Rebekah – she creates a solidly intelligent and grounded character who embraces the pain and love in her life with equal grace.  Cydoni Reyes is a real find as June, and Turvin was lucky to find an adult actor who manages to believably convey the angst, drama, and maddening mood swings of repressed adolescence. Reyes’ June is both precocious and innocent, and charming throughout. Finally, there’s Jon Gennari, who walks a fine line as Dr. Galen Gray, the quintessential outsider. While he is often funny, he never seems to be going for the laugh – he’s so somber, logical, and determined that the audience accepts the absurdity of the situation without question.

I loved the set – rather than trying to create even a semblance of small-town Indiana, Turvin’s design, a simple backdrop of silver/gray panels, allows the actors to easily break the fourth wall. The audience doesn’t need to worry about suspending disbelief, because as soon as Genevieve Larson’s beautifully designed lights go up we know that we are not expected to cling to an illusion of reality.

Twilight’s production of Anatomy of Gray is something of a sleeper. While it’s fun and moving in the moment, it doesn’t yield its full impact right away but grows its impact upon reflection – one of those shows that would be well worth seeing twice.

Anatomy of Gray is playing at Twilight’s Performing Arts Theater, 7515 N. Brandon Avenue, Portland through April 24^th, with performances at 8 pm on Thursday, Friday and Saturday and 3 pm on Sunday.