Buntport Theater

There are two rooms one directly above the other in which all furniture and walls in both rooms are suspended by wires. In the top room a man leans over a small desk. To his left is a walkway supported by wires. In the room below a person in a camel costume sits on the front edge of a wire-suspended bed. The room is cluttered with boxes.

Denver post- Buntport’s “Baydak”: Think “Metropolis” meets “Office Spac

e”

Any evening at Buntport requires a suspension of both belief (you won’t believe your eyes) and any adherence to theatrical convention.

So why not have a full production that is, in essence, suspended in air?

“The 30th of Baydak” is an off-balance little play performed on a two-level set that hangs from dozens of ceiling cables down to just a few inches above solid ground. Walkways, beds, desks – all essentially floating, as if all aboard are floating through life.

This stark yet sweet comedy is part political protest and part sentimental ode to all the world’s losers. Set in the real Central Asian nation of Turkmenistan, it follows a compliant government drone named Yousef (Erik Edborg) who spends his workdays performing mind-numbing tasks, presumably as part of a larger master plan to keep the masses distracted from the meaninglessness of their lives. They toil amid a preponderance of cables that make this workplace look like a prison cell.

Think “Metropolis” meets “Office Space” … without as many laughs.

This play is instead a serious rumination inspired by Czech novelist Bohumil Hrabal’s “Too Loud a Solitude,” as well as actual events in Turkmenistan, a formerly Russian-controlled state about the size of California bordering Iran and Afghanistan.

Turkmenistan became an independent nation in 1991 but was ruled by a ruthless and wildly eccentric dictator who renamed himself Turkmenbashi, wrote his own bible and banned everything from lip-syncing to newscasters wearing makeup. He also changed the number, lengths and names of all calendar months – from February, for example, to “Baydak.”

And all that wacky stuff was true even before the Buntporters got their creative hands on this absurd story.

Despite the play’s foreign setting, the characters in Buntport’s play are identifiably American, which adds a chilling “this could happen to us” subtext. We follow the lonely Yousef to work, where chirpy office manager Ogul (Hannah Duggan) burdens him with office gossip and the inherently ridiculous (but necessary!) task of carefully cutting out any reference he finds to an outdated month.

Disgruntled rebel Farzad (Evan Weissman) tries unsuccessfully to recruit Yousef into the political resistance. But the arrival of an unseen new podmate (Erin Rollman) awakens his creative spirit.

While “Baydak” plays like a timely new commentary on political oppression given the recent uprisings from Egypt to Libya, it was first performed in 2003, just after the U.S. went to war with Afghanistan.

This “remount” is part of Buntport’s 10th-anniversary season revisiting favorite works. “Baydak” made for a curious choice, given that it wasn’t overwhelmingly received in ’03. The ninth of now 28 original efforts came across then as intriguing, but murky and a bit rushed, without building to a strong ideological conclusion.

That’s a problem the times have fixed: As we’ve watched so many thousands stand up against their oppressors from the Middle East to West Africa, we are soberly reminded that insurgency brings casualties, both innocent and not. Now the ending seems emphatic.

There are welcome bits of Buntport’s signature magic, namely the appearance of Turkmenistan’s most sacred animal … on two upright legs and wearing a business suit.

That said, the plot still turns on an uncharacteristically clumsy twist. And a promising foray into the redemptive power of art, and its role in personal and political rebellion, remains an unfinished tangent.

It’s curious that “The 30th of Baydak” is a day that never existed – even when the month was called February. This play remains something of a riddle, with a warm but ultimately unknowable heart.

-John Moore, April 8th, 2011, Denver Post