CONTINUOUSLY ENTERTAINING
What’s most striking about the excellent we are continuous by Harrison David Rivers (The Bandaged Place, This Bitter Earth) is that it doesn’t just break the fourth wall occasionally—it shatters it entirely. The writing style is unlike anything I’ve seen in a multi-actor staging. It’s more akin to three-person storytelling, where the other two characters hear the one talking to us (most of the time, at least) and chime in. While there is certainly a plot, it unfolds through blended family members each offering their perspective on events that are never fully acted out in real time—though the actors sometimes assume the physical positions of where they were at the time. Without seeing every movement, every pause, or every triviality of reality, we zoom straight to the crux of what each character wants to share. It’s much like recounting a great or terrible night out to a friend in five minutes rather than reenacting every detail. Rivers’ three characters tell us what happened in the past tense (“So I said… and then I said…”), allowing for an impressive amount of storytelling to be packed into just eighty minutes at Diversionary Theatre.
Elliot Sagay
Ora (Marti Gobel) takes her time opening the show, meticulously setting the table as she plays and occasionally sings along to Cissy Houston’s gospel hit, “The Lord is My Shepherd.” Only after giving the song her full attention and respect does she turn to us and speak about her deep love for her “homosexual” son. Between that musical opening and that single word choice, we immediately recognize a woman torn between her faith and her open heart for Simon.
When Ora’s monologue ends, Simon (Elliot Sagay) finally gets his turn, sharing the story of his first big crush—Andy, a boy in grade school—and how, at the time, he couldn’t quite understand why he just wanted to be special to him. Through his perspective, we get the backstory his mother never knew: his first experiences with dating, his struggles as a young Black man in a religious household coming to terms with his orientation.
Marti Gobel
All three actors remain on stage almost the entire time, leaving us to wonder, for a while, “Who’s the white guy in the back who smiles a lot, and is he ever going to speak?” But when he does—zing! Abe (Eli Wood) is the man who finally reins in Simon’s philandering and makes the brave attempt to integrate into the complicated dynamic that is Simon’s family.
Eli Wood, Elliot Sagay, Marti Gobel
The looming, never-seen presence in the show is Hoyt, Simon’s father—the barely bending oak to Ora’s flexible willow. But make no mistake: Ora is no malleable dove. She’s a strong woman, struggling and fighting both internally and externally to make things as right as she can while being pulled in two directions. She wants to follow her heart and logic, yet suddenly, she’s quoting Ephesians 5:22-24 (“The husband is the head of the household”) to justify certain choices. As impassioned as Simon’s storytelling is in Sagay’s capable hands—with Rivers’ terrific dialogue—Gobel is absolutely riveting in her turmoil. Abe could easily be overshadowed by the central mother-son relationship, but Wood brings a fiery zest to the role, reminding us of the struggle of being the “other” in a family dynamic and attempting to be compassionate to all without overstepping.
Elliot Sagay, Eli Wood
At times, we are continuous feels like a series of personal essays stitched together—“Are You Close to Your Son?” “How to Be Supportive of a Son Who Majors in Theater,” “When I Knew I Was Gay”—all of which circle back to what someone else needs to say next. The script doesn’t have specific blocking, so first-time director Kian Kline-Chilton must have faced a daunting task figuring out what to do with three actors engaged in continuous storytelling. Yet his choices succeed—no one ever looks stuck, and at other times, his staging rings powerfully simple. Colby Freel’s excellent lighting design helps direct focus to key moments while allowing others to breathe. One particularly moving instance features Abe in a faint glow, looking on tenderly from a distance as Simon, struggling, takes center stage.
Elliot Sagay, Eli Wood
It’s interesting that the semi-autobiographical script makes no mention of Abe’s religious background, given his place in this deeply Christian found-family. One wonders what circumstances he came from and why Ora, so focused on praying for a devoutly Christian wife for her son, doesn’t seem to have given the same weight to Abe’s beliefs as he enters Simon’s life.
Ultimately, within Rivers’ unique storytelling framework, the core of what these three are sharing is a powerful message of how to love: where it breaks down, when to yield, and how to face life with a man who hasn’t the skills to cope.
Elliot Sagay
photos by Talon Reed Cooper
we are continuous
Diversionary Theatre
4545 Park Boulevard #101 in University Heights
Thurs at 7; Fri and Sat at 8; Sun at 2
for tickets, call 619.220.0097 or visit Diversionary.org
