Reflecting: Debutantes & Detectives: Guthrie’s Spring Plays
photos by Dan Norm
One of my favorite things about the Guthrie is how you can step into one theater, and just a feet away, an entirely different story is unfolding. This month, The Mousetrap kept audiences guessing with its classic whodunit in the McGuire Proscenium, while The Nacirema Society was delivering a sharp, heartfelt comedy about Southern Black tradition over in the the Wurtele Thrust.
Two completely different genres, taking place in two very different locations (but oddly enough set within 10 years of each other), both shows pulled lively, invested audiences and left me so thankful to be part of a theater community that celebrates this kind of variety. It’s been amazing to watch the Guthrie’s seasons year after year, bringing new energy to its stages while holding space for classics.
Nacirema Society
I went into this production only knowing Horace Miner’s famous short story Body Ritual Among the Nacirema, which spoiler alert, cleverly critiques American culture by describing it’s culture and traditions through an exaggerated outside lens. Nacirema is “America” spelled backwards, I was curious how Pearl Cleage’s play would weave in that sense of reflection.
I attended Guthrie's Nacirema Society BIPOC Community Night, and it was one of the most memorable theatre-going experiences I’ve ever had. At intermission, I looked around and said to my cousin, “I have never seen this many people of color in one theatre my whole life.” The energy was electric, the laughs, the knowing “mhms”, the gasps. Even though the house wasn’t entirely full, the audience made up for it. It’s no secret theatre audiences (and casts) tend to skew white, so it meant a lot to see the Guthrie make space for accessibility and inclusion like this. Free rides through Metro Transit, a pre-show reception, and a Black Artists Pop-Up Market the next day made the event feel intentional and celebratory.
This was also my first time sitting front row in the Wurtele Thrust , and it was such a blast! Though one of my favorite things about this theater in particular is that truly, there isn’t a bad seat in the house, but sitting this close did evoke a more personal experience.
As for the cast, it was a thrill seeing Nubia Monks again after Paradise Blue at Penumbra earlier this year. My sister and I have been huge fans ever since. Darrick Moseley, also in Paradise Blue, brought his signature contagious energy. Legends like Aimee K. Bryant (who I grew up watching at Children’s Theatre) and Regina Marie Williams (a Guthrie regular) were as wonderful as ever.
Greta Oglesby, new to me, but definitely not to the twin cities theater, stole the show. Her character was hilarious in a way that felt effortless and familiar, like a family member we’ve all met. Dedra D. Woods charmed with her sanity and adorable outfits, and Essence Renae was a standout as well. I hope to see her on more Twin Cities stages soon.
The story follows Gracie Dunbar as she prepares for the Nacirema Society’s 1964 centennial cotillion. Her grandmother Grace and family friend Catherine are scheming to match Gracie with Bobby. Instead, Gracie dreams of independence while Bobby is secretly in love with Lillie, a girl from school who shows up unexpectedly. This is definitely a script I’d have a fun time reading, so I would definitely recommend so if you’re into family drama and big hilarious plot twists.
The Mousetrap
My history with The Mousetrap runs deep. I first saw it at age 10 at Jefferson High School, and to say I was easily spooked would be an understatement (even the board game Clue freaked me out back then). I made it through Act 1, but in Act 2 my sister and I got so anxious we had to leave mid-scene :( Needless to say I couldn’t deny the show was really well written and super interesting.
Fast forward to this fall when I set a personal goal: direct The Mousetrap myself someday to rewrite my bad memory. In preparing for that, I’ve gotten pretty intimate with the script and characters, which made watching this Guthrie production a total treat.
Agatha Christie’s The Mousetrap is the world’s longest-running play for a reason. Set in a English guesthouse during a snowstorm, the story begins as a group of strangers becomes stranded together when a police sergeant arrives to warn them that one of them is a murderer connected to a recent local murder.
As suspicion shifts from guest to guest, each with their own secrets and suspicious behavior, tensions rise and accusations spiral. The house’s young and recent owners, Mollie and Giles Ralston, find themselves in a classic whodunit where NO ONE is safe, and EVERYONE is a suspect. Known for its legendary plot twist, The Mousetrap is a classic in mystery literature, packed with suspense, humor, and surprise.
While The Mousetrap is known for its suspense, director Tracy Brigden leaned into the humor in Agatha Christie’s script, which was such a smart move. The show has the perfect amount of “spooky but funny”. Mystery shows are always a blast because it’s the most intensely an audience pays attention, people whispering theories at intermission is half the fun.
This production reminded me how fun mysteries can be when everyone’s engaged. I got to see a couple of mysteries last year, Yellow Tree’s Dial M for Murder and Gremlin’s Reunion with Trademark were both so much fun. I’ve got my eye on Theatre in the Round’s upcoming Christie piece and Guthrie’s Sleuth next season.
My standouts:
Lighting designer Rui Rita, Costume designer Susan Tsu, and Sound John Gromada, all did such amazing work to make us feel and suspect things subconsciously. Each costume told us so much about the characters and allowed us to make biased assumptions. Lights and Sound subtly and even dramatically intensified scenes, which made things so interesting.
Monette Magrath (Molly) was the heart of the show for me. In a play full of untrustworthy, over-the-top characters, she was grounded and genuinely relatable, a tough feat in a mystery.
Matthew Saldívar (Mr. Paravicini) was hilarious. This character often annoys me in other versions because he feels so clichéd and overplayed. But this production knew that, and played into it. Between the ridiculous lines, lighting cues, sound effects, and Matthew’s comedic timing, he became one of the funniest parts of the night. My friend Dash pointed out that when likely when The Mousetrap first premiered, characters like him weren’t tropes yet, Christe created the tropes. That context made me appreciate the choice even more.
Set designer Walt Spangler. The set was as expected, incredible from ceiling to floor. The walls and colors and chandeliers were all beautiful, but to me the most amazing thing was all the tiny little details. Because this is a mystery, details are everything. All of the drawers and the cabinets, the windows and the doors (THE DOORS), the way everything looked was so important to the plot and understanding the mystery. Molly gives Christopher Wren (and us) a tour at the beginning and after that we can only make guesses. Everything was so intentional: which doors closed which ones didn’t, what we could and couldn't see.
I also love how, even though The Mousetrap is famously frozen in time, it offers tons of opportunities for creative blocking, silent giveaways, and character moments that keep it fresh.
These two shows couldn’t be more different in tone and style, but both were executed with an obvious love for the craft of storytelling.
Joseph Haj and everyone involved in crafting these productions deserve so much credit, the Guthrie just keeps getting better and better. From meaningful opportunities like BIPOC Community Nights to a packed, diverse season lineup, it feels like the theater is truly listening to its community and finding new ways to be both relevant and welcoming. Their audiences have been electric lately, and it’s such a privilege to be a part of it.
I’m already counting down the days to their upcoming Cabaret, which couldn’t be arriving at a more timely moment. And if the energy in that room is anything like these past few shows, we’re in for something special.
