WEST JORDAN—The Sanctuary Theater Company is a little theater that is not afraid of a big show. Assassins, with music and lyrics by Stephen Sondheim, book by John Weidman, and directed and choreographed by Kyra Furman is no exception. Although Assassins isn’t a terribly large show relative to many musicals, it still felt a bit too large for the Sanctuary space. I am nonetheless impressed with the company’s ambitious choice to tackle the show. There is a lot of theatre in Utah, which is a good thing, but there are also a lot of the same shows done over and over again. It is refreshing to see a theater attempt a lesser-done work by a master like Sondheim.
Assassins is the story of nine different assassins (some successful, some not) of US presidents throughout history. The script is both a collection of historical vignettes and an interweaving of stories where people living similar experiences across different timelines end up interacting with each other in an alternate realm. The show explores each character’s path to and reasons for their ultimate decision, as well as surreal moments of non-literal, anachronic intersect with each other and in a strange and twisted way, influencing each others’ decisions.
Just off Redwood Road in West Jordan, tucked between an apartment complex and some small businesses, the theater is a bit hard to find, especially on a dark and rainy night. The entrance is unlit and there is a pile of debris in the driveway that made it feel like I was entering the back door, although a sign does indicate you’ve found the theater—once you get close enough to read it in the dark. I recommend giving yourself extra time to find the place. Also worth noting is that the audience enters from the door at the back of the stage, directly onto the small performing area—so if you’re late, you may be starring in the show.
I adore grassroots theatre, with its found, intimate and converted spaces. Sanctuary pushes all of these to the limit in their tiny space. It is tight—very tight—especially for a musical with a decent sized cast. The seating is also a bit precarious as audience members have to climb up steep, narrow steps to access most of the seating.
The stage area, constructed by Michael Thrall and painted by Connie Beaty, Ryan Christofferson and Matt Stone, sets an off-kilter, semi-patriotic tone as it is dressed with a large American flag at an odd angle, a carnival-like duck shooting wall, and a small balcony space above, accessible by a ladder. There is also a red-and-white-striped wall adorned with wanted pictures of various US presidents.
Sanctuary Theater’s mission statement is to be “the place where you can be yourself”. The theater holds true to this through truly blind casting, which is described as the “heart and soul” of the company. The practice is intended to strip away any visual bias in casting by hiding the production team from view of the auditioners, who won’t meet the cast until the first day of rehearsal. I applaud this methodology, designed to tap into individual talent beyond appearances. However, the tradeoff, which is apparent in this production, is that it seems to focus primarily on vocal talent, sometimes at the expense of acting ability.
Carl Smith as the Balladeer (who helps guide the audience through the storyline) and Robert Johnston as Charles Guiteau (who assassinated James Garfield) are both excellent vocalists, but appear to be less comfortable as actors. The opposite is also true with Michael Thrall as John Wilkes Booth who is a strong actor with a commanding presence, but vocally a bit pitchy at times.
Overall, for a small community theatre production, the cast is quite capable. In particular, Kaden Renz as Sam Byck and Kylee Berry as Sara Jane Moore have excellent comic timing. Renz’s delivery of Byck’s two pre-attempt monologues are hilarious examples of his skill. He adeptly uses props, pacing, and cadence to drive home both the comedy and the tragedy of Byck’s character arc. Berry’s exaggeration of Moore’s uncoordinated gun skills highlight her adeptness at physical comedy. Jennica Anusua as Lynette “Squeaky” Fromme is a strong actor and vocalist. She commits believably to her character and blends her voice well in Sondheim’s oft-challenging harmonies. Moore and Fromme have great chemistry as unsuccessful co-assassins of Gerald Ford. Ben Reynolds also stands out as John Hinckley; his accurate and utterly disturbing portrayal of the awkward young man who shot Ronald Reagan is impressive and unsettling.
Staging in such a small and awkward space is a challenge for Furman. She mostly uses the space well, but tends to default to the visually uninteresting chorus line of characters spread across the wide but shallow space, looking uncomfortably crowded. There is also an unfortunate scene between Fromme and Moore staged around a bench with the actors downstage at stage level where they interact with a bucket of chicken. The scene is clearly very funny to the front row who could see the bit, but is blocked from view for most of the audience. Staging that scene further upstage or having the actors stand rather than crouch would have given the whole audience an opportunity to laugh along as well.
There are a handful of visually strong directing choices, such as the bystander segment done in slow motion and shadow during “How I Saved Roosevelt”, some fun choreography in the “Ballad of Guiteau”—including can-can kicks while climbing a ladder—and a moving moment with Lee Harvey Oswald in silhouette in front of screens that have turned to static at the end of “November 22, 1963”. There is also a nice transition achieved between the JFK scene and the “Finale” as Booth takes the place of a woman (played by Anusua) as she mourns JFKs death. This left me wishing there had been more interesting transitions like this one throughout the production.
The script is an appropriate thought exercise for the time we’re living in. I was struck by the overlapping motives and historical context of many of the assassinations and attempts catalogued in the show, and how most grew out of a time of heightened political environment. The Balladeer’s lyric “Angry men don’t write the rules and guns don’t right the wrongs” is a deeply resonant reminder of the futility of the assassins attempts to accomplish whatever they each seek to achieve. Byck’s tirade about how “they all lie to us” is meaningful as he compares the broken two party political system to a dysfunctional co-parenting relationship where mom and dad promise their child that they’ll each make it all better while denigrating the other parent, rather than trying to work together for the benefit of all.
All in all, the Sanctuary’s Assassins is an earnest and committed grassroots production of a timely, profound, and less-produced dark comedy. The company is true to their mission of blind casting which, although imperfect, is well-intentioned and does allow opportunity to showcase the talents of actors who might otherwise be overlooked. I think this is something worth celebrating and supporting.
