Harmon dot aut’s Tornado Tastes Like Aluminum Sting, a world premiere at the Contemporary American Theater Festival, takes place in Kansas and includes real and metaphorical tornadoes, but the world the playwright evokes is no Land of Oz. In place of Dorothy with her ruby slippers, dot aut gives us Chantal Buñuel, or “CB,” a nonbinary, autistic teen filmmaker who wears a glittery waist pouch and documents their life with their parents through the lens of a camera. In fact, film is CB’s reference for everything. (They take their chosen name from Spanish-Mexican filmmaker Luis Buñuel, whose 1962 surrealist film The Exterminating Angel is one of CB’s favorites and a touchstone in the play.) Through the eyes of CB and the lens of their camera, dot aut pulls back the curtain on autism, gender stereotyping, family relationships, and creativity to offer a glimpse into a world as full of magic, struggle, and joy as Oz itself.
From the very beginning, we understand that Chantal/CB (wonderfully played by Jean Christian Barry) interprets life through the lens of a camera and in relation to film, particularly world cinema. CB hosts family movie nights during which their parents (engaging mom Jasminn Johnson and dad Roderick Hill) flirt and make love, while CB offers the audience insightful commentary on everything from old classics to modern horror flicks. CB is more comfortable with things than with people, who are harder to interpret; in one of many memorable moments, CB sings a duet with the kitchen table, while their parents sit on the couch snoogling (again).
But CB is not unaware of feelings and relationships. They just process them differently. Memories of a tornado the family once experienced return whenever CB struggles to express, contain, or understand strong emotion. The family’s faded farmhouse (smartly designed by Britton W. Mauk) shakes and eventually splits in two; lights blink and winds roar, exemplifying what CB once literally experienced and the strong emotions that have arisen again. (Credit to light designer Kate McGee and sound designer David Remedios for work that highlights literal and metaphorical at the same time.) In a particularly touching scene, CB struggles to respond to their father’s revelation of an atrocity he (Joe) committed as a soldier in Afghanistan and the PTSD he suffers still. Although Joe accuses CB of not being able to empathize, the audience sees CB processing everything and, as always, turning to a favorite film for explanation.
As films can take us back and forth in time, so too with CB’s camera. Midway through the drama, we learn that much of what we have seen on stage (and projected on the farmhouse wall) is actually footage from CB’s student thesis project at the special school in Wichita where their parents sent them when they were 11. Apparently, CB has thrived there. Now 19, CB directs their parents to recreate scenes from the past, and also scenes of what could have happened, but did not. (In the fictional version, the parents die in the wreckage of a tornado, perhaps a nod to CB’s fascination with the horror genre.) As the narrative shifts back and forth in time, most obviously in the play’s latter half, we witness CB changing, too, into a more mature and confident individual. They are learning how to direct — and how to relate more directly.
The same can be said of CB’s parents, who are learning how to deal with someone “on the spectrum,” as CB points out to the audience. Mom “Sherri” encourages CB and CB’s filmmaking interests, even if CB has to repeatedly call her out for misgendering them as “her.” (“Misgender jargon!” CB shouts.) For his part, father Joe approaches a quiet recognition of the struggle he and CB share to find an adequate means of articulating painful emotion. In the end, this is, like CB’s thesis film, a work in progress that we have the privilege of witnessing.
CB is no Dorothy, but they are, arguably, more interesting to watch. As presented by Barry, CB is authentic, engaging, and (surprise?) relatable. We seem to understand what CB is going through, which is playwright Harmon dot aut’s point. (In an interview in the CATF summer program, dot aut, a nonbinary, autistic writer/filmmaker/singer/theater artist, acknowledges this.) Similarly, Johnson and Hill bring an appealing warmth, humanity, and racial diversity to their roles as CB’s caring, thoughtful, sometimes stressed-out parents. When life (or CB) gets to be too much, Hill’s dad heads to his greenhouse to care for the plants he sells at market. Johnson’s mom, a preschool teacher whose boss is a sexual predator, finds satisfaction — or escape — in working to empower her school community. Supported by the video projections of Caite Hevner and Paul Lieber, they bring CB’s story into full, living color.
One may quibble with a few things here and there — a scene change that feels unusually slow, an ending that, arguably, loses some power because of its suddenness — but the opportunity to inhabit CB’s world for a time is a gift. Kansas may “smell like copper,” as the synesthete CB declares, but it’s not something we’ve ever experienced before.
Running Time: 90 minutes, no intermission
Tornado Tastes Like Aluminum Sting plays through July 28, 2024, presented by the Contemporary American Theater Festival performing at Studio 112, 92 W Campus Drive, Shepherdstown, WV, on the campus of Shepherd University, Shepherdstown, WV, in repertory with three other CATF plays. See the CATF website for performance dates and times. Purchase tickets ($40–$70) at catf.org/buy-tickets or through the box office, boxoffice@catf.org or 681-240-2283.
Tornado Tastes Like Aluminum Sting
A world premiere by Harmon dot aut
Directed by Oliver Butler
Scenic Design: Britton W. Mauk
Costume Design: Ashley Soliman
Lighting Design: Kate McGee
Sound Design: David Remedios
Projections Design: Caite Hevner, Paul Lieber
DCTA REVIEWS OF THE 2024 CATF:
‘Tornado Tastes Like Aluminum Sting’ at Contemporary American Theater Festival (review by Deryl Davis, July 16, 2024)
‘Enough to Let the Light In’ in rep at Contemporary American Theater Festival (review by Deryl Davis, July 15, 2024)
What Will Happen to All That Beauty?’ at Contemporary American Theater Festival (review by Bob Ashby, July 8, 2024)
The Happiest Man on Earth’ in rep at Contemporary American Theater Festival (review by Bob Ashby, July 7, 2024)
