The brand new play “Song of Extinction,” written by E.M. Lewis and directed by Heidi Helen Davis, opened this weekend at the Ford Theatre. In the following review, I will grade a) the performances and b) the production.  Oh, and real quick, I wanted to give a shout-out to the really good food they had there, A+.

PERFORMANCES: C+

Part of my brilliance/social retardation comes from the fact that I was homeschooled up until 8^th grade. Thank god my parents had the foresight to gift me with a social high school experience, even if at the time they were only doing it because I was a handful and they needed to pool their energies into their shaky marriage instead of a hysterical daughter. When I discovered high school drama class, it sealed two deals—one for my life’s purpose, the other for my parent’s split.

As a result of my training, I am notoriously hard on actors and divorcees. I’ve done my fair share of crappy acting, and I’m pretty positive that if I’d ever tied the knot, it would have unraveled by now, but my drama teacher told me something I’ve never forgotten, and that is: There are no small parts, only small actors.

"...the relationship built between Max and Khim over the course of [Song of Extinction] is dynamic, charming and vulnerable —truly notable".

The good news is that the two leads in “Song of Extinction”—the troubled young student musician Max Forrestal and his isolative but good-natured biology teacher Khim Phan, played by Will Faught and Darrell Kunitomi (respectively)—are both stellar. The 20-year-old Faught has the perfect combination of teen-angsty cynicism and wiry adolescent body to match. “Song” is his theatre debut in LA; his is a genuine talent with subtle sensibilities. 

Kunitomi is a seasoned film actor and theatre director and brings an intimate but understated kindness to the character of Khim, who has witnessed his family’s slaughter in the Cambodian genocide. Fifteen-year-old Max is coping with an estranged father and a dying mother and finds an unlikely friend in the withdrawn Khim.

Both Faught and Kunitomi are excellent listeners and approached their characters with empathy and organic simplicity. The characters are highly fleshed-out in Lewis’s inspired writing, providing each actor with plenty of fodder for their creative cannons.    

The bad news is that the supporting players lacked the same responsiveness shown by the two leads; they went through the motions but the writing was not in their bones. Like a herd of drugged wildebeests, they visibly limped on cues, on body characterizations and space work like they were distracted by individual survival instincts instead of propagation of the species (in which case they would have been more generous with each other in their scenes). 

It was hard to decide which was more unbelievable, Tristan Wright as the young Doctor Dorsey, or Lori Yeghiayan as the terminally ill Lily Forrestal, both played with absent-minded indignity.

Trey Nichols, as the heartless executive Gill Morris, could not seem to make any strong choices with his character and his artistic neutrality was painful to watch.

The least of the offenders, Michael Shutt, plays Max’s sniveling father Ellery Forrestal, a character who started spineless but was supposed to grow one. Mission unaccomplished.

I take exception in the case of the background players, the white-suited “ghosts” of Khim’s family, who, from the very get-go moved with such grace that props seemed to float off stage in their careful hands. Their presence substantially added to the strength of the production, especially in the Noodle Shop scene, where one striking moment made the entire play worth seeing. Aileen Cho, Vance Lanoy, and Sophea Pell, definitely took the “no small actors” counsel into diligent practice.

Regardless of the fluffy performances around them, the relationship built between Max and Khim over the course of the play is dynamic, charming, and vulnerable—truly notable.

PRODUCTION:  A-

In the early days, my poor social stock and feeble oratory skills excluded me from casting, so I worked backstage to earn brownie points. When the school put up “Into the Woods,” I was faced with the daunting task of figuring out how to make big fake trees that kids could stand in and sing out of. I called up a couple dozen warehouses and supply shops before I found some crazy folks who agreed to donate some massive cardboard tubing and a couple hundred yards of burlap. How invigorating!

I don’t know how many calls designer Stephanie Kerley Schwartz had to make, but the staged product for “Song” was logical and sharp. The play’s action centers around a half-moon hospital cubicle housing Max’s mother, who eventually goes extinct. The stage is lined with Cambodian artifacts and photos of lost children. The details of the genocide stay a virtual mystery in the dialogue and are only seen through these artifacts and the evidence behind Khim’s eyes. The rest is left up to your imagination. 

Lewis has said that all of her plays are about grief and survival, and “Song” is certainly that. Tech director Jim Bray and his crew have worked to make this feeling stick with the audience in a profound way.  Use of projected images, sound, and lights, all created a fine-spun cycle of life, supported by a superior soundtrack from up-and-coming composer Geoffrey Pope.

The production goes uber-gossamer as Lily’s life fades and her waking dream sequences take over; the filmy reality is superbly designed onstage. Director Davis takes the audience on an ethereal ride through death, resentment, acceptance and, finally, some peace. Each piece of this puzzle is beautifully crafted.

Again, Lewis’s writing has given the director so much to work with, and ultimately Davis survives the test, with colors.

“Song of Extinction” charts two fellows’ journeys through redemptive mortality. It is a show of many successes and—where it fails—great potential & this is just the beginning. I look forward to witnessing its evolution, tracking the careers of its finest contributors… oh, and finding out who catered the reception.