By Nicholas Whittaker
‘Still Standing: A Musical Survival Guide for Life’s Catastrophes,’ written and directed by Anita Hollander. Scenic Design: Afsoon Pajoufar. Stage Manager: Renee E. Yancey. Master Electrician: Katie Hoolsema. Props Manager: Zack Stern. Technical Director: Nathan Lee. Sound Engineer: Lee Schuna. Presented by New Rep Theater in residence at the Mosesian Center of the Arts, 321 Arsenal St., Watertown.
“Cripples ain’t supposed to be happy,” Anita Hollander sneers halfway through New Rep’s Still Standing. The sentiment, out of context, may sound surprising from Hollander’s lips. Hollander is the sole writer and performer of Still Standing, an intensely personal musical detailing Hollander’s own experience as a cancer survivor who lost her leg due to complications with her illness. The callous sentiment expressed above is thus not Hollander’s own, but one she admits she frequently comes across. Still Standing is Hollander’s attempt to prove it wrong. Disability, for Hollander, is neither a burden to bear nor an obstacle to overcome, but a complex, emotional, and ultimately integral part of her life and identity. In this, the show is a success. Hollander is able to reclaim the personhood of which disabled performers and characters are often deprived, asserting herself as the center and driving force of her narrative. This is, Hollander’s show argues, is what it truly means to survive.
Still Standing’s most unfortunate flaw is its own format. Still Standing is an hour long, packed with songs and heartfelt anecdotes on Hollander’s experiences. The story begins with Hollander’s experience as a senior at Carnegie Mellon studying musical theater. Her lifelong love and canny understanding of stagecraft is abundantly clear in this production. Hollander has crafted a musical with great scope and vision. Her show hops across Hollander’s life through flashback format, allowing Hollander to perform from within her memories across time, space, and characters. One song details her experience wishing farewell to her amputated leg; another particularly lovely and warm song is sung from the perspective of Hollander’s own daughter. The songs are generally well-crafted, demonstrating Hollander’s ease as a melody-writer and arranger.
But the great promise of these pieces is often undercut. They belong in a grand ensemble piece, not a small and insular one-woman show. For example, many of the songs utilize recorded vocal performances – a backing church choir, or interspersed dialogue, or even a particularly lovely barbershop quartet arrangement – to surround Hollander’s own performance. While this demonstrates Hollander’s good ear for arrangements, one quickly begins to wish that the recorded “cast” were on stage with her. It feels as though Hollander’s intentions for her songs extends beyond herself and the small stage on which she stands. This speaks highly to Hollander’s vision, but results in a frequently frustrating sense that we don’t get to see the full picture.
Hollander is too charming a performer and too clever a creator for the show to ever be bad. But she simply cannot do the work of an ensemble cast by herself (is that truly what we expect in a one-person show?). Her vocal talent is in no way poor; it’s very good. But it isn’t perfectly suited for certain parts (like a Motown-inspired accompaniment to a physical therapy flashback). Hollander’s shifting across time and characters does prove her artistic vision and comfort with performance. But at times it lessens the emotional and artistic weight of the production.
Hollander has dreamed up an impressive spectacle of a show, with chronological twists and dynamic ensembles and inventive dance breaks. It only falls short because it stretches beyond the confines of New Rep’s black box theater. Hollander deserves a full set – the minimalist environment suits an intimate one-woman show well, but imagination can only do so much to transform its bare plywood walls into a chapel, a college stage, or a hospital. She deserves a full ensemble. She deserves to see this show reach its full potential.
All this said, it is worth noting that Hollander has spent a great deal of her professional career fighting for equity for disabled actors, creators, and narratives in theater. In acknowledging her struggle against structural resistance to diversity in the art form, we ought to avoid blaming Hollander for the resistance in the elite world of musical theater to highlighting stories, and productions, like hers, with the resources and support they deserve.
This is not to say that a one-woman show is a particularly poor or ignoble medium. In fact, some of the most beautiful and profound moments occur when Hollander embraces the natural limits of such a performance. Hollander is a seriously talented performer. She manages to intertwine her natural friendliness and wit with her decades of artistic experience, creating a viewing experience that feels like one is watching both a new friend and a truly talented artist at work. The best parts of Hollander’s show take advantage of its format to showcase this experience.
The opening and closing are particular knockouts. The show is bookended by a triumphant song-and-reprise in which Hollander wryly, proudly, and gently congratulates herself. In both the original and the reprise, Hollander sings alone, without backing vocals, simply standing. There’s a smile on her face, maybe a little weary, but undeniably happy, and honest. After the reprise, Hollander does not close the show, but rather walks over to the piano that had until then sat unused in the corner. She performs “The Choice” a song she wrote in 1977 for a friend after he had been diagnosed with AIDS. This is the only song with absolutely no pre-recorded accompaniment. Rather than try to bring more onto the stage, Hollander brings out the best of the tools in front of her: the piano, her voice, and her charisma. In these moments, Hollander reveals the power of scaled-back theater: gentle, well-crafted, earnestly present.
Still Standing feels like two shows: both clever, both heartfelt, both profound. One – a spectacular ensemble piece – seems constrained and sometimes awkward, but filled with promise. The other – a quiet solo musing on survival – hits with such pure feeling when spotlighted that one wishes we saw more of it. At times, the juxtaposition may be jarring. But it’s rare to find a production that boasts as much emotional authenticity as intelligent stagecraft. Still Standing is an ambitious blend of both, and with the kind, charming, and skilled Anita Hollander at its helm, it proves worth your while. For tickets and information, go to: http://www.newrep.org/
