BWW Reviews: WE ARE SAMURAI Wanders Wild, Well-Made, And Weird

"This gem is really powerful," said the young man with the shaved head and tear tattoo in a completely serious voice as he examined a paste crystal. "It can really help develop your aura," said the woman behind the counter, totally straight-faced. I was at the Crystal Fox in the decrepit, pre-zombie apocalypse historical district of Laurel, which is the only shop I've ever been to that reeks of patchouli and doesn't sell bongs. I didn't know it as I browsed the Three Wolf Moon t-shirts, but this shop would be a perfect hangout place for the characters that I would meet later that night in We Are Samurai at Venus Theater just down the street.

To get this out of the way, We Are Samurai contains no actual speaking roles for samurai as such, but instead focuses on 4 White young people in an unnamed lower-middle class location whose prank war, or (more accurately) petty vengeance war, gets completely out of hand. The plot is not terribly innovative, moving along at a brisk pace with only a few unexpected twists. But the plot isn't the reason to see We Are Samurai, you want to make the drive to Laurel in order to see this madly pleasurable staging that shrinks what could have been a 2 hour plus snoozefest into an exciting 1 hour and 15 minute roller coaster ride.

Here's the key: the play takes place in 5 different physical locations within and outside Venus Theater's compound. You, the audience, choose how to experience the play. One could stay in the same location for the majority of the play or follow a particular character around. The best way to experience the play though is to go wherever you feel like. Is something interesting happening over there? Walk on over. Horrified scream from the kitchen? Best check it out. In this way, We Are Samurai is very much like a mystery, where you try to piece together exactly what is going on and the relationships between the characters. Between moving among the scenes and the inquisitiveness that the mystery requires, We Are Samurai is not for audience members who want to be ensconced in darkness and enveloped by the play's plot. This play is for gamers, choose-your-own-adventure enthusiasts, and people who never stopped poking things with a stick when they were children.

We Are Samurai also contains a solid dose of New Age spirituality, though it isn't portrayed in a very positive light. Reincarnation (the New Age spiritualist kind, not the "this is something to escape from" Eastern kind) forms one of the major pillars of the characters' relationships. Lovers Elias (played an appropriately scenery-chewing Cathryn Benson) and Regan (played with steel-eyed psychopathy by Daven Ralston) believe that they are lovers across lifetimes of reincarnations from positions of power and glory. If you know anything about Caucasian Reincarnation, you know that everyone has been Cleopatra or Marie Antoinette or Napoleon. If you, like the young man with the shaved head and tear tattoo, hold those beliefs dearly, this show may offend.

What does not offend is the bouncing rhythm and accurate characterization of the actors and the dialogue. Regan's brother Rocky, whose main characteristics seem to be smartphone worship and condescension (perfect timing for the recent rapturously dismal iPhone announcement), is played by Patrick Gorirossi with such commitment that his face could only be described as eminently punchable. In his girlfriend Josaphine, AnnFraistat reprises her wild insanity from last season's No. 731 Degraw Street, but puts Josaphine into a pseudo-1950's housewife package that is delightfully neurotic in her kitchen domain. As a side note, Josaphine, like many people, makes food as a way to comfort her neuroses, and all of the food that she makes is available and edible by patrons. Each of these characters, while never people one would like to associate with in real life, make for fantastic theatrical fodder.

This characterization has to be the result of direction from Deborah Randall, who done well to not fall into the trap of insisting that audiences like or sympathize with her characters. Her direction takes the weirdness of Daria Miyeko Marinelli's script and embraces it instead of parsing it, suicidal samurai cats and all. Yes, suicidal samurai cats, aphrodisiac perfume and rosemary worship, among countless other oddities, fill this play, but once you get used to them, they easily run into the background of character assumptions that are a part of any playgoing experience.

Randall, however, adds an extra bit of weirdness: 3 silent actors playing the ghosts of real samurai who act as musicians and poltergeists throughout the play. While their presence is occasionally relevant through their creepy mystique, there was never a moment where their presence clicked into a kairos, or perfect moment, when they felt absolutely necessary. Beyond the utility of these added characters, I have to scold Randall here for hiring White actors to play the ghostly samurai. If a director chooses to add atmospheric characters (with playwright's permission, of course) that is one thing, but hiring Caucasian actors to play specifically Asian characters is deeply problematic and is terribly disrespectful to the area's Asian actors, who have to deal with this disturbing trend on a local and national levels.

I'm not sure whether this transgression is worth boycotting this play, especially since the vast majority of the experience was so positive. The sparse design was well-made and synced nicely with the homemade feel of the play. The directing was generally solid and handled the multiple spaces excellently. The speaking actors embodied their characters so well that they were able to enjoyably improvise as their characters for a long stretch before the performance. In fact, if I were to change one thing about how I participated in the performance, it would be to come earlier and interact more with the characters, since I got some especially useful character and plot hints in the time I got to question them. The actors are pretty open to it and do well to not make audience members uncomfortable while maintaining character; I took a socially-anxious friend along, and she still had a fantastic time, even though she doesn't like talking with strangers. My advice for We Are Samurai is to go, be adventurous, stay open to the experience, and turn on your brain for an interesting ride.

We Are Samurai runs about 1 hour and 15 minutes and is playing now through September 28th at the Venus Theater Play Shack in Laurel, MD (21 C Street Laurel, MD 20707). You can find tickets here.

Photo by Adam S. Lowe Photography

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