Tues—Fri at 7:30, Sat at 2 & 7:30, Sun at 2 & 7 Additional matinee Wed Nov 21 at 2
Run time: One hour and fifty minutes, no intermission
During the run of The Whale, post-performance discussions with Samuel D. Hunter and Davis McCallum have been scheduled for the following dates:
Tuesday, Oct 17 Sunday, Oct 21 following the matinee Friday, Oct 26
RIVETING. An impassioned and arresting clash of minds and emotions. I was glued to the stage. Hensley’s performance is equally dynamic and horrifying.
—Rex Reed, NY Observer
VIBRANT AND PROVOCATIVE. Hunter explores his material with sharp-eared skill and sensitivity. McCallum's production handles Hunter's text with clarity and devotion, getting uniformly strong performances from his five-person cast.
A: Can you talk a little bit about the Idaho you grew up in?
S: Yeah. I mean it bears less and less resemblance to the plays that I’m writing as I continue to write them. I mean they’re obviously set in Idaho, but there’s nothing that’s really quintessentially Idahoan about most of the plays. Like, there are some references that, sure, are Idahoan, but I think the plays actually are trying to be sort of non-regional, in a way. They could be anywhere in America.
About two and a half years ago, I took a job teaching expository writing to freshmen at Rutgers University. Initially, I had taken the job out of desperation; I needed money and was unable to find any adjunct teaching in theater departments anywhere in the city. An hour into the first training session, as I sat in the middle of a large group of English MA and PhD candidates and recent grads, a thought started to nag at me: You have no idea how to write a good essay. When we broke out into smaller groups, everyone introduced themselves and I stuttered a bit before telling the group that I had a masters degree in playwriting.
"Consider them both, the sea and the land; and do you not find a strange analogy to something in yourself? For as this appalling ocean surrounds the verdant land, so in the soul of man there lies one insular Tahiti, full of peace and joy, but encompassed by all the horrors of the half-known life."
There's Steinbeck and Salinas. Faulkner and "Yoknapatawpha." Raymond Carver and his stomping ground, the Pacific Northwest. Philip Roth and Newark. More recently, there's Annie Baker and her fictional Shirley, Vermont. And then there are the settings of Sam Hunter's plays which, if you look closely, reveal a pattern:
The media are calling it "The Mormon Moment." Perhaps you've noticed it. The GOP nominee for President is Mormon. The Book of Mormon remains by far the hottest ticket on Broadway. And, the ecclesiastical ad-men of Salt Lake City have launched an omnipresent, well-produced TV campaign featuring normal folks—a New York comedienne working for The Daily Show, a Haitian woman turned American mayor, a French opera singer—who are meant to strike most of us as unlikely Latter-day Saints.