There is a moment at the end of Pacific Conservatory Theatre’s (PCPA) latest play, The Wolves, that comes from such a deeply surprising and unnerving place I almost thought it was a mistake.
I actually sat up in my seat to see if they would halt the play to correct what was happening until I realized, no this was actually part of the production. What happened next gutted me as a woman and daughter of a loving mother.
The Wolves tells the story of an indoor soccer club made up of nine girls, most of whom are only known by the numbers they wear on their jerseys. The play is told in a 90-minute firestorm of nonstop dialogue and interaction between the girls before each match, as they grapple complex issues ranging from abortion to sex to the Khmer Rouge.
The play’s setting is an indoor soccer stadium, and the scenic designers have created a vivid and intensely abstract version of one that works so perfectly in harmony with the script.
The play loosely centers on #46, a young outsider who has recently joined the team, as she begins to drop strange hints about her home life in between the very graphic conversations about dictators and menstrual cycles the other girls are engaging in. The tennis-ball nature of the script (bouncing between the crude jokes about period blood to the anger at a teammate’s empathy for an aging former Khmer Rouge member) mirrors the way these serious topics are lobbed at unsuspecting young women. As we watch #46 try to insert some of her own innocent reactions into these rough conversations, the audience is reminded of how difficult it is to steer one’s innocence through such violent and dark waters.
Playwright Sarah DeLappe (a finalist for a 2017 Pulitzer Prize for the play) has created a masterwork that features young girls not as objects or secondary foils but as center-focused human beings. She refuses to let her team of girls be seen as frivolous. Even through their constant stream of “ums,” “likes,” and petty mean girl cliquishness, an air of permanent seriousness hangs over them. Their worlds are fraught with the kinds of “grown up” issues we seek to keep young people like them shielded from, for as long as possible.
But the truth is, “grown up” is a word adults use to create lines of demarcation around youth, where we perceive innocence is a gift to embrace for as long as possible. The boundary is arbitrary and in fact utterly meaningless in a world where the violence and indisputable truth of the world’s cruelty can permeate the lives of innocent young girls at the touch of a button or through a reckless whisper. We may think these girls lack the apparent maturity to handle some of the situations they find themselves in, but that doesn’t make them free from having to deal with them. That’s the reality of contemporary teenage life the audience is confronted with in The Wolves, and it makes for some heartbreaking moments.
What carries the play is the strength of the nine actresses who comprise the Wolves soccer team. There is simply not a weak link in the bunch. Each one of these actresses brings something unique and striking to each role, giving no hint of insincerity throughout the entire performance. I wondered if that was partly because they may find so much of themselves as women in these characters and their stories, because DeLappe has made each one so utterly believable and real it’s hard to not relate.
The musical interludes of the play are served in fractured doses of light and sound, as the girls seem to transform into the dead-eyed demons that society sometimes seems so hell-bent in making them become. Kaylene Howard as #00 brings an especially powerful solo moment to a very jarring end, creating so much tension in her body and face it was hard not to wince in pain. Howard is very adept at playing in these quiet moments and finding hard-to-reach places of emotional chaos.
Katie Fuchs-Wackowski, resident artist at PCPA, plays #25, the team’s captain. There are moments (thanks to the wonderful intimacy of the Severson Theatre) when you can see #25 begin to accept the realization that she is the warden of these young girls as they navigate through the pain of their lives and personal tragedies. She understands her leadership role and embraces it, and the actress undergoes a physical transformation within the short play that shows her character becoming more comfortable in her own skin.
Charlotte Baldiviez as #13 is an absolute gift of jaunty energy and comedic timing. She completely embodies the character, an ostentatious young teenager simultaneously embracing her coming adulthood and retreating back into childish antics. Victoria Sanders as #46, the awkward and mysterious newcomer, is a visionary and gifted actress who steals scenes in her quirky silence. #46 masks her pain well, and it’s up to Sanders to give us doses without overplaying the hand. She (like all of these actresses) has an extremely promising future in theater and film.
It’s hard to talk about why the play is so good without spoiling the last scene, which I won’t do. I will say that the final five minutes are devastating to the point of actual audience tears. What they have managed to do is build up to a believable emotional climax that is not possible to anticipate (bring some tissues, folks).
I was not prepared for how good the play is. The Wolves is one of the very best drama productions I’ve ever seen at PCPA. It reaches a new level in terms of actors pushing themselves to go beyond dialogue and character motivation to truly wrap themselves in a particular person’s pain and insecurities. To watch nine young women do this all at once onstage together is truly remarkable.
Arts and Lifestyle Writer Rebecca Rose is howling. Contact her at rrose@santamariasun.com.
This article appears in Mar 21-28, 2019.