The GhostLight Theatre in Benton Harbor recently opened its production of “One Party Consent.” It runs through Oct 25.
University Dean Ellen Healey’s morning is not going smoothly. She enters her office with loud music on her headphones, coffee in hand, and a giant headache from a row with her husband. To make matters worse, Ellen’s assistant, Sandra, has brought her the wrong brand of bottled water.
Into this environment of minor frustrations, enters Fola, a person of color, and theatre graduate student, with an agenda far beyond the scheduled mid-term meeting with their advisor.
After reviewing work and plans for next semester, and before they leave the Dean’s office, Fola has laid waste to any semblance of a friendly working relationship between the two. Not only has Fola pushed all of the buttons of the seemingly well-meaning Ellen, but they have secretly recorded the conversation and with it the Dean’s confession of personal favoritism toward Fola.
We later learn Dean Ellen Healy’s motive for her overweening indulgence of Fola: her department must not be seen as excluding students of color. Consequently she has decided to signal her course for all to see. Fola’s axe to grind is that they are the token flag hoisted aloft.
Reverse discrimination is only one corner of the intricately constructed web spun for our consideration in playwright Omer Abbas Salem’s “One Party Consent.”
Director Caroline Neff’s audience engaging production and Salem’s thought-provoking play require viewers to listen closely, lest a character reveal some monstrous, repugnant underside to be scrutinized for judgement and punishment. Audible groans, “mmhmm’s,” “aha’s,” and “oh no’s” from those attending, punctuated the dialogue throughout the evening.
At the end of the eighty-five-minute performance, the spectators’ attention is, however, well worth it. Part of the payoff is the cold realization that both the characters and those in the audience are ensnared in a charade of bending over backwards, finger pointing, and “gotcha moments” meant to distance the accuser from any accusation of homophobia, racism, sexism, ableism, or the latest “ism” brought to our attention.
Consequently, we are witnesses to a series of verbal and physical gyrations by Ellen and Fola, adopted to comply with perceived rules of DEI, the university’s human resources department, grant narratives, socially acceptable norms, and public opinion.
The missteps and subsequent track-covering in this delicate dance within the higher educational system are often amusing, sometimes vicious, and always revelatory of deep divisions within our society. The victim here is the human side of participants reduced to categories. As the mask of politeness slips, the nature of the desperate game being played is on display: this is blood sport.
Rebecca Maxey, as Ellen, does an admirable job of portraying a dean on a tightrope. She must meet a BIPOC student’s demands, show fairness to other students, satisfy regulations and DEI requirements, and meet the expectations applied to her department. While Maxey adopts an even-handed, and helpful façade in her initial approach to Fola, her character claims that she feels “pursued” by the student on the other side of her desk.
Later, the measured, halting, and carefully considered comments delivered by Maxey underscore the dichotomy of her situation, as both assistant Sandra and Fola take notes. As she offers support and empowerment to Fola, Maxey lays bare her character’s vulnerability and a growing unease that her every word can be used against her. These concerns are soon validated.
As Fola, Shyanne Mitchell effectively conceals the prosecutorial nature behind the initially innocent questions concerned with the treatment of others. A student director, Fola presents the case of a Muslim student asked to portray Ali Baba in her production of “A Christmas Carol.” Given his religion, is it fair to require this student to play a stereotypical role, or should that character be appropriated to a white student? Fola knows that any answer by the Dean can be criticized.
Mitchell’s performance is intriguing because she gradually peels away layers cloaking the malevolent, vengeful soul that lies at the interior of her character. Similarly, Maxey slowly traces the arc of her character’s shift from defense to offense, as her decisions lead her to an unpleasant subterranean ending.
Mairin Mendoza, first as Sandra, brings innocent, supplicating charm to a supporting role through a few well-timed lines. Later Mendoza shines in the role of Ms. Brite, a cheerful HR representative caught between the opposing forces of Ellen and Fola and plotting the aftermath of the relationships that will follow her arbitration of their dispute.
Director Neff’s carefully paced production, and playwright Salem’s timely script, find surprising ways to accentuate the mistakes in this journey on a road paved with good intentions.
The play’s title refers to laws in states where recording in secret is permissible as long as one party knows about it. This is significant because the play’s action takes place in an arena where clandestine recordings of conversations are stolen by parties who are themselves recording and being recorded. It’s a world where everyone is held accountable to conflicting norms open to interpretation and revision.
Upon leaving last Thursday’s performance at Ghostlight Theatre, I found myself, at least momentarily, on an unfamiliar side of the political coin. It’s a takeaway I’ve had after seeing the work of David Mamet. I didn’t mind arguments posed by playwright Salem in the way I might resist the rhetoric and talking points of current day politicians. After all, sometimes challenging one’s world view through choices made by characters on stage can be what good theatre does.
