Does Hope Set Us Free? “Brown Bodies on a Blue Earth” Answers.

There’s something about the intimacy of a small theater that you just can’t get on Broadway, or at any large theater space. 

In the case of The Underground Theater in Belltown’s Base Camp Studios, the space added a visceral ambience to the story told in Brown Bodies on a Blue Earth by the incredible Cris Eli Blak. Covered in paint, layered graffiti-style, words and found materials adorn the walls to encapsulate the setting of folks having found shelter in a time of dire stress and necessity. 

In the world of Brown Bodies, we’re taken to the not-so-distant future wherein Helios (our sun) is inching its way closer to Earth. The ice caps have melted, the sea levels have risen, the animals are all but gone, the air is burning hot, and those with enough affluence and influence have boarded a space lifeboat for the colonized Moon. Of course, who is left on Earth but the rest of us, the broke and the BIPOC. 

“Why don’t they care about us?” ~ Simeon

Clover (Rachel Nellie) during her monologue in Brown Bodies / The Evergreen Echo

Through a series of interactions and prose, we see and live the characters’ pain and joy as they recall the Before Times and those they’ve lost. The urgent distress of the state of the world and the question of whether or not to keep going when nothing is left is felt keenly, particularly through the words and actions of Clover.

Our introduction to Clover is her bursting onto stage like a bat out of hell, and we are forced to pay attention like a triage nurse in an emergency room. She and her roommate, Reed (Donovan Manhannah), argue over the choice to help a wounded man, Simeon (Jeffrey L. Cheatham, II), among depleting supplies and shared space. Clover is the “runner” of the three, the person who regularly goes outside to forage for dwindling groceries. She feels ever-present and aware of how dire the environment is, yet she maintains a steadfast faith as she navigates both her pain and Reed’s. We feel her tears keenly as she speaks about the world “not burning—ending,” and it’s as immediate as five minutes from now. 

Simeon is the comedic relief, a man recovering from a gunshot, and relives his youth as a kid from a neighborhood the media liked to call “dangerous.” He says he felt perfectly safe in his ‘hood because he knew everyone and everyone knew him, and we get the sense that his was the kind of community where everyone looked out for each other. As viewers, we may try to recall if there’s a guy like him on every block where we all grew up, if we took the time to get to know him. 

Reed, Clover’s roommate, carries a deep anger with him, and it’s mostly with himself. His futility perfectly foils Clover’s hope, and the two struggle to find common ground amidst the dying world around them.

DeeJay Flo-Sister (Eugenia "Snow" Pierce) and Zachariah (Kaughlin Caver) converse / The Evergreen Echo

While the three coexist at the front stage, the rear of the room houses the woman whom everyone instantly feels is their auntie: DeeJay Flo-Sister (or any combination of those names and spellings; “I’m not picky,” she tells her audience). She provides a sense of togetherness even as she realizes her twice daily radio broadcasts may fall on zero ears. At one point, she rescues a young man with seeming amnesia, Zachariah. The two eat and converse in peace, taking comfort from what little they can. 

From every character we are forced to ask ourselves pressing questions, some internal and individual, others social and big-picture: Who am I, and where would I be when the world ends? What is my role among the people close to me? Are we worth our salt as humans if we only spare those most privileged and most likely to exploit others? What can we do as a society to stave off such disparity and inequity in the face of imminent danger to our species?

Brown Bodies is urgently asking us to pursue these enquiries. Not only for ourselves, but for the state of our society the way it is right now. Throughout the characters’ monologues and interactions, we see not just the future, but the way it is at this moment for so many people. Yes, it’s a BIPOC show made by and for BIPOC people. But it’s also crucially relevant to everyone as we careen toward the death trap our oppressive systems are hurling us towards.

After the show, Director Brodrick Ryans granted a quick interview:

 

“I’m a firm believer that we’re created for community, we were not created to be isolated. Which I think is part of the reason the pandemic was very hard for us, we’re not created to be isolated people. We thrive in community. And I hope that people take away love and community and the aspect that…even in desperate situations or dire times that with community, there’s still hope.” ~ Dir. Ryans

It’s true, the subject and the setting are depressing, but the hope and community that shines through is what keeps us watching, keeps us going. Whatever rollercoaster your emotions ride, Brown Bodies on a Blue Earth is worth every captivating moment. 

**Editor’s Note: The Underground Theater would greatly appreciate any buzz, donations, and ticket sales surrounding BBBE. The BIPOC crew and cast put this show together on a shoestring and a love for the play, and they need your help to keep the doors open, the actors paid, and to share more exceptional stories with us. Please visit their site for more info or share this article on your socials. 

Mary Adner

(she/her) Mary is the Editorial Director of The Evergreen Echo. You’ll find her on panels at various nerdy conventions, consuming art, watching films or cartoons, debating media, taking pictures, or recommending spots to Seattle newbies. She has previously written for Seattle Gay Scene, and has edited, acted, planned, created, and collaborated on a plethora of projects in artsy, political, and geeky realms since 2014.

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