BWW Blog: WILL ROGER'S AMERICA Illustrates the Changing World

Whether true or not, Familia Yates claims the ability to trace the family lineage back as far as immigration to the new world on that ubiquitous symbol of nascent America: the Mayflower. We have a crumbling, leather-bound bible from the late 18th century with a family tree of calligraphied names, and tiny, disintegrating sepia portraits of relatives in their Union blues and Rebel greys. More accessibly, there's a century or more of photographic evidence of Yateses plowing, farming, and general good-ol'-boyin' around the Central Valley. There's a Yates Avenue in Porterville, California, where my great grandfather was a sheriff, his offspring were cattle ranchers, and my grandfather owned a feed mill. I grew up on the lore of the Central Valley in times of depression, World War II, and the hot-rod and rodeo culture of the 50s and 60s. I know most of my relatives via grainy pictures of workingmen on horses, with boots and prize belt-buckles and straw hats; and ranch wives--beautiful and strong, built for labor and harsh winters.

But the world changes. The romantic rodeo round-ups my father describes in the nostalgic tones of a man with an aversion to recognizing his waning age are to me the quixotic myths of someone else's America. Yet it's a touch of one aspect of quintessential American culture, and I find myself in the strange position to be sentimental about experiences I never had. My father's an attorney, not a rancher, and I was raised in the suburban wasteland of the television-babysitter 90s. But I remember my grandfather's house from a lifetime ago: saddles and equipment I couldn't identify hanging from the walls of a wooden shed, a big motorcycle, and the Tule fog obscuring the point in the yard where the train tracks ran through. It's comforting (though completely unrelateable to my current existence) to have a connection, no matter how tenuous, to a familial and national heritage.

My family history, one that has been written by the memories of others and my own extrapolations based on old photos, is one reason I was so intrigued by local actor Rich Hoag's one-man show, Will Rogers' America. Most recently produced at the Timbers by Prism Productions, Hoag has been presenting his version of Will Rogers--humorist, columnist, actor, performer, radio personality, and American celebrity--for over a decade. An adaptation of Will Rogers' USA, a show originally performed by actor James Whitmore in the late 60s and early 70s, Will Rogers' America features Hoag as the rope-twirling celebrity of yore. The show is an ever-evolving, casual monologue about politics and lifestyle that is surprisingly progressive, considering Rogers was at the height of his fame in the 20s and 30s. Hoag's folksy demeanor makes Will Rogers' America a comfortable experience--though certainly more performance-based monologue than actual play.

The intent is to use Rogers' viewpoints about the circus of political posturing and the obvious inequalities between the isolated groups of American society, and transcend them beyond time in order to comment on current issues. Different with every re-mount, Will Rogers' America brings the observations of a man who Americans once considered a trusted, grounded source of news and entertainment, into the present. However, despite the charm and wit of the show, there is a discernable sense of looming antiquation. Much of the material is witty, insightful commentary that highlights society's penchant for perpetual and simultaneous stagnancy and progression; yet the time of Will Rogers as a personality of any relatable recognition is coming to an inevitable end. Especially for a younger audience who may only be "meeting" Mr. Rogers for the first time through this production, the fascinating aspects of this man--his progressive and concerned, yet realistic and flippant point of view (a novel character in the early twentieth century)--lose specific, personal meaning, and the man becomes a character.

As a viewer without more than a conceptual knowledge of Will Rogers, my interpretation of this character was of a socially enlightened cowboy more than an actual man who'd had a real affect on America. The more removed the audience becomes from the reality of Will Rogers, the more the character of Will Rogers becomes an expression of historical fiction through an everyman character, rather than an attempt to re-create a person of historical significance. Much of the extensive material in the show loses weight when the audience has no personal connection to Will Rogers. Audiences percieve the material as historical fiction, so to be more successful, the monologue should be streamlined into a concrete narrative to match the new type of awareness the audience is available to offer.

People become legends and legends become myths. In this spirit of unavoidable evolution, a show about a person on the cusp of becoming more character than memory should strive toward a less personal, more concept-based narrative. The history of Rogers' career and prairie-raised youth is interesting, but it's a single-note set-up that acclimates the audience to a time and place. The pitfall to avoid is the chatty, circular monologue that reminds audiences of a one-sided conversation with someone reminiscing about the past.

The meandering quality of the second act aside, Hoag is well suited to the role, and the play reminds audiences of the figures in history who inspired generations previous. The show certainly plays on a sentimental vision of the old west meeting a new century head-on with war, colonization, depression, and the evolving media. In terms of depicting a fascinating time in American history, Will Rogers' America was effective, though plodding. Yet, in the tradition of Prism Productions, the Goodland Supper Club's re-mount of Hoag's one-man adaptation was a pleasant experience that reawakened an interesting celebrity from a bygone era important in our shared American history.

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