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In the early 2000s, I inherited a book collection from my former theatre teacher. It was a virtual treasure trove of hardcover and paperback classics of the theatre, covering everything from Greek tragedy to the best of the 20th century. One volume, with a copyright date of 1920, was particularly interesting because it was an anthology of “best American plays.” I knew there were really no great American plays before the work of Eugene O’Neill, so I wondered what on earth the volume contained. Indeed, the last work in the collection was O’Neill’s first Pulitzer winner Beyond the Horizon, but John Gassner’s anthology attempted to bring together all the important early American plays, which don’t hold up to today’s standards, but nevertheless contained an old American play on the subject of Pocahontas, one of my favorite myths, legends, historical stories of America.

 

Custis

The play in question was Pocahontas, or The Settlers of Virginia (1830) by George Washington Parke Custis. Custis was the adopted son of our first President and, after a successful voluntary career in the military, became a noted orator and playwright. His plays were typical of the time—bombastic, melodramatic dialogue, skimpy to ensure there was much time for special effects and, of course, all the tropes about Native Americans we wince at today. After all, we’re talking about a Pre-Civil War Southern playwright writing about race relations.

 

But there was more to it than that. The story of Jamestown really is our nation’s first great story of culture clash in a country that continues to clash over one thing or another. Also, Custis’ work was anthologized because his Pocahontas play improved over past ones which were more historically accurate, but anticlimactic because Pocahontas’ saving of Smith (probably not a true event) came as the climax of the play rather than in the first act.

 

There was a lot there that could be used for further adaptation. The story of Pocahontas has taken on legendary status and no dramatic rendition can be historically accurate because our information is so full of holes and come from sources that play it up into “legendary” status. Yet, I’ve found each version of Pocahontas does something interesting and even reveals aspects of the historical truth, though they’ve not all been synthesized in one single dramatic work.

THE NEW WORLD

Disney’s 1995 Pocahontas has all the dwellings of the Powhatan people facing east as they would have been (though it gets almost everything else geographically wrong). Terrence Malick’s masterpiece The New World (2005) attempted to rebuild the Algonquin language. And then there’s Custis’ work, which reveals the polygamous and religious side of the Powhatan confederacy. It also smartly solved the problem of the Natives and English not understanding each other.

 

He included a fictional character named Barclay, who is the last surviving remnant of a lost colony, like Roanoke (my other favorite early American historical story). He has been kept by Powhatan Wahunsenacawh to teach his people the ways of the English so they can be better prepared for future explorers. Of course, there is nothing historical about any of this, but it does keep one from solving the language barrier by magic leaves or something else tedious (ahem, Disney).

 

I had initially intended on my version of Custis’ work to be played by adults and perhaps, since the play is set in 1607, creating it in the style of an Elizabethan play where a small cast performs multiple roles on a Globe Theater-like setting. But only scant fragments, including the opening scene, were ever written down and it seemed like I was in no hurry to finish it.


Reading of CHILDREN

Cut to the early 2010s and I am teaching theatre at a high school in Jefferson County, Alabama. I need large-cast plays to show off the talents of my students, who I loved and were wonderful—so good in fact that, by my second year, I established a Classics Unit which would perform slightly more challenging plays. The impetus of this began when, in my first year, we held a concert reading of the first draft of my new play Cry of the Native Children, which retained exactly one line of Custis’ original (used ironically) and was changed from a three act play for adults to a long one act suited for high schools and community theaters.

 

Feedback from the reading, overall, was strong though I don’t know if the community fully understood what was happening as it is unusual for a high school to mount a new play. The reading gave me a sense of changes that could be made and, by year 2, I had a slightly expanded draft that brought in so many characters that everyone who auditioned ended up in the cast. One was even added as I saw fit to use a historical character who gets little credence, the Powhatan’s brother Opechancanough, who was an important political figure.

Climax

Native Children (which we called Native Chicken for fun in rehearsals) would be mounted in the Winter of 2011 at the high school and then tour to play the last slot of that year’s Thespians Festival at Troy University. As rehearsals barreled toward us, any notion of historical costuming or scenery went out the window. Since we were already teeter-tottering on eggshells by having Caucasian and African American students playing Native roles, it seemed more in line to have an experimental show. The “tribes” wore all white and all black, the Natives wearing white so as not to give the impression that either character group color stood for "good" or "bad." It had always been my contention that the story couldn’t just stomp on the actions of the English (though that would have been easy enough to do) but should be more overall anti-violence, pro-discussion, between two people who are at war.


Dance

We also went several steps further—we performed the play on a bare space with the stage walls in full view. The only scenic elements were three periaktoid towers which could be moved together or separately to denote certain playing areas. They were painted on all three sides and could transform into the inside of a Native dwelling to the forests, etc. An original rock score was composed by Justin McElroy, who also had to put together music for a Native dance that became everyone’s favorite part of the show. Fluorescent make-up, strobe and black lighting, and representative weapons finished out the show’s technical elements.

 

The play does establish the Powhatan as polygamous with various names, including secret ones. Pocahontas was the nickname of Amunote, secretly named Matoaka, and later, after her marriage and conversion, Rebecca. The religions of each tribe were given equal time and examination, and Barclay became my favorite character, wryly commenting on the actions bringing a social critique of the events. Native Children was a success at the high school and now it was time to take it on tour.


Thespians Festival Bows

We made it to South Alabama and, as we were slated for the last Sunday morning session, I wasn’t expecting a lot of folks to stay around. But a crowded house and the restoration of a more risqué closing line, made the experience sort of the crowning point of my time teaching high school theatre. I’m ashamed of it, but I’m often uncomfortable watching my own plays with an audience. Yet, I never missed a performance of Native Children. It was a perfect synthesis of an excited and talented cast, some really interesting new directions for the company technically, and a play we all genuinely liked.


Full NATIVE CHILDREN Cast

Eventually the script was published and is available for license from Eldridge Plays and Musicals, which also publishes my translation of Henrik Ibsen’s A Doll’s House, the first show of our 2nd season. Unfortunately, it was published with my old pseudonym Robert Cole. It has not seen productions since, I think, because of the enormous number of men required. By beginning my tenure at the high school directing Grease, I never wanted for men, and I think most schools struggle with this, though I would not mind it being performed gender blind as well as racially blind. In the published version, I encourage any company who can to cast Native actors and our production did include one Mexican-indigenous performer.

 

'Til this day, Native Children my favorite production of one my plays and I was smart enough to film it for preservation. For more info on how to purchase the script or perform the play, visit Eldridge’s website.

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This article originally appeared on an earlier blog and was included in the collection Everyone Else is Wrong (And You Know It): Criticism/Humor/Non-Fiction. I still wouldn't update the list as South Park has lost a lot of its spontaneity and relevance, especially since the series began utilizing whole-season arcs. Still, it has been over a quarter century since the foul mouthed boys of Colorado got into our hearts and I share this list with you, that includes a couple of Christmas specials as we're nearing that season.


When The Book of Mormon opened on Broadway, it became one of the best musicals to grace the Broadway stage in a long time. A glorious homage to the Golden Age of Musicals, the play came from the minds of Trey Parker and Matt Stone, the creators of South Park, and Robert Lopez, one of the creators of Avenue Q. But, while each episode of South Park is created, drawn, and produced the week it airs, The Book of Mormon benefited from workshops and readings in the standard theatre way. And if South Park can be so spot-on with only a few days’ work, imagine how good The Book of Mormon remains.


This list is my top ten personal favorite episodes of South Park, which might be the perfect television show. Why? Because television allows you to connect immediately and nationally on topics of interest. Satire and parody have always worked best on television and not in films, which date, or plays, which fade away. While I love the ripped-out-of-the-headlines episodes, what you will see below are mostly not those episodes. These are episodes that owe their debt not to current affairs, but to the bizarre and random minds influenced by Monty Python.



1.   Woodland Critter Christmas

Easily the one that makes your skin crawl even as you hold your sides, this Christmas special from the eighth season is one of the few from the last few years that I think could rank with all the specials we love.



2.   The Ring

While this one may descend down the list as the show goes on (due to its’ reliance on the Jonas Brothers being popular and the fad of purity rings), this episode nearly hits the top spot by simply showing us the funniest deconstruction of the Disney company that ever pricked the mouse.



3.   Scott Tenorman Must Die

There are three truly great characters in the history of drama: Hamlet, King Lear, and Eric Cartman. This classic episode shows you why.



4.   Free Willyzk

A personal favorite, this bizarre episode, about the freeing of an orca, makes little sense but packs a huge punch. The funniest moment may be the realistic drawings of the four boys.



5.   With Apologies to Jessie Jackson

Who else could have gotten away with that, even then?



6.   Butters’ Very Own Episode

If Cartman is South Park’s greatest creation, then Butters Stotch and Randy Marsh come a close second and third. Butters’ tale is a sad one and yet it’s easy to see why everyone on the show loves to hate him and why we just love him.



7.   Sexual Harassment Panda

One of the earliest episodes to catch my attention, it’s still one that cracks me up. A hilarious send-up of the sue-me culture.



8.   Gnomes

Step 1: Watch this episode, Step 2: , Step 3: Masterpiece.



9.   Timmy 2000

A classic episode, the introduction of Timmy and the parody of the late-‘90’s music culture (Phil Collins, Lallapalooza and the like) is still funny.



10. Mr. Hankey's Christmas Classics

One of the great treasures for any South Park collector is their Christmas album, inspired from this Christmas special which consists of music videos to bring you Holiday cheer.

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At a bachelor party in the prairies. Here for my friend’s wedding. I have nothing in common with these men in uniform, but am happy to be there, sharing in these times.


Had a long conversation with an airman, one of the groomsmen. I try not to let a meeting with a former soldier go without the question, “Why did you fight?” I’m always curious. Me, I’m not sure I could do what they do. So, I guess I want to know their reasons. For me, it’s unfathomable to put your life at stake. I always try to sue for peace.


But I look at my gift from the groom-to-be—a jagged pocketknife with my name etched in wood panels on the side. I wonder if I’ll ever truly need this weapon. Of course, I could keep it in its sleeve in a shelf. But the world is getting so dangerous. It flashes across the mind, keeping it with me. But who would bring a knife to a gun fight?


So, I sat with the airman and asked why he served. And he told me a story about an apparently famous video (I don’t watch news) of a journalist being burned alive by terrorists in the Middle East. He of course had seen the video before the public.


The general public’s response was they were unsure as to why the man in the video was not screaming prior to his ultimate demise. As the airman explained to me, they had actually tortured the man eleven times with the threat of the flames.


They would pulse toward him, but not engulf him.


The video the public saw was taken the twelfth time when the tortured man no longer had anything in him with which to exude said torture.


There were eleven times previous where the fire creeped toward him but did not reach him.


So, by the time the twelfth time rolled around, the fire finally consuming his body, he was not expecting it.


No emotion on tape.


The airman told me the reason why he fought was because there was such evil in the world as the people who could enact such brutality.


I have asked the question to many men and women over much time and never heard that answer.


I was left riven, grateful for him, grateful for all of them.


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