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They say the events that cause us the most stress and self-introspection are the ones that are the most common to humanity: marriage, childbirth, death. To the list, the Children's Theatre Company adds "the prom."
It sounds glib, until you consider — as director Whit MacLaughlin writes in his director's notes for CTC's production of "Prom: No Turning Back" — that just about every American older than 18 has a prom story, and every American younger than 16 will eventually have one.
Obviously, it's an especially salient subject for teens — an audience segment CTC is trying to reach in a fledgling programming initiative. "Prom: No Turning Back" is another strong step in that program: It's a deft, funny and artful experiment.
Without condescending to the young or yammering at the old, the show offers a balanced look at a rite of passage.
MacLaughlin, artistic director of Philadelphia's New Paradise Laboratories, joined with a half-dozen adult CTC actors, a dozen local teens and a couple of his own people to collaboratively develop the piece, which reimagines the prom as a full-contact sporting event.
Gowns are accessorized with high-tops and glitter-dusted eye-black. The boys in tuxedos might also be wearing jerseys, football pants or kneepads. Chaperones — elegantly clad in black and yellow — represent the opposing team. The stage is a football field, with end zones marked "past" and "future" and a referee ready to throw his yellow penalty marker for physical or philosophical infractions.
No, the overarching metaphor isn't especially fresh. And yes, a few of the images are trite (the students wrest the keys to the future away from the chaperones, only to discover they don't know which key on the unwieldy ring opens the door). But there's a sense of adventure and discovery in "Prom's" wide-open performance style that makes it more than worthwhile.
The show almost assaults you with its barrage of music, imagery and ideas as the young ones strain toward the future and the oldsters struggle to hang on to a piece of their past. The surface aspects of the spring formal are explored — the libidinal longings, the did-I-ask-the-right-person doubts, the abject horror of the Grand March.
But "Prom" adroitly pivots to address deeper questions as well — questions about life and love, commitment and doubt, embarrassment and determination. Though the setup is that of a contest, there aren't winners and losers. There's only the ephemeral truth, the passage of time and the epic struggle to capture one while the other slips past.
And though the show might go clink here and there, plenty of the fast-moving images linger long after they're gone.
Some are complicated — like an above-the-stage ballet between the prom king and his queen. Some are simple — like the message spelled out on the bottoms of the chairs at the end of the night. Some are embarrassingly funny — as when one of the chaperones decides to serenade the students with a raspy (and to the students, absolutely ancient) Bryan Adams tune. And some are heartbreakingly iconic — as when a young woman reaches with one hand toward her college and her future, even as the other hand holds tight to her boyfriend and her past.
The show lasts about an hour, but for the full effect, audiences should arrive early to take advantage of the trio of pre-production "exhibits." There's a video assemblage of teens and once-upon-a-teens sharing their prom stories, a "gallery" of tableau vivants chronicling the pre-prom experience from "The Ask" to the beautification process and a multimedia collection of reminiscences. These exhibits, like the show itself, are intelligently done and layered with humor and wisdom.
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