Playwright: David Valdes Greenwood. At: Pride Films and Plays at Rivendell Theatre, 5779 N. Ridge Ave. Tickets: 800-737-0984 or www.pridefilmsandplays.com; $22-$27. Runs through: April 10
You can tell that David Valdes Greenwood had his heart in the right place writing his comic-drama Raggedy And. Unfortunately, Valdes Greenwood's preachy script and Pride Films and Plays' world-premiere production both fall short in execution.
Raggedy And deserves kudos for its attempt to raise awareness around gender-identity issues in regards to the play's central couple, a trans woman poet named Ondi ( Delia Kropp ) and her lesbian partner, Clem ( Katurah Nelson ). Yet the play also tries so hard to be all-inclusive to the extended LGBTQIA acronym that it soon comes off like a self-congratulatory exercise in political correctness.
The play begins with a rushed and clunky expository scene where Ondi and Clem's 22-year-old son, Ben ( Averis I. Anderson ), comes out to them as bisexual. Barely has this revelation registered when Ben brings home his first boyfriend, a high-powered Cuban-American Democratic political operative named Jayden ( Manuel Ortiz ) who later turns into the play's nominal antagonist.
Jayden apparently helped to mastermind the winning Democratic campaign for America's first female president ( her initials are H.C. ). Now Jayden is the primary planner for the presidential inauguration and he wants Ondi to write and deliver the ceremonial poem.
Ondi's should-I-say-yes-or-no dilemma dominates the first act, while the second focuses on how Ondi and her family try to take control of the conversation away from Jayden. He insists that Ondi be labeled as "trans" to raise positive awareness for the transgender community, but she would prefer to be identified simply as female since she transitioned so long ago.
Raggedy And's ultimate happy conclusion feels dramatically disingenuous since Valdes Greenwood earlier referenced so many real-life safety concerns faced by people suddenly thrust into the harsh glare of a worldwide spotlight. There's also no mention of the aftermath—particularly of the inevitable vicious moralizing and scrutiny of right-wing media outlets to Ondi and Clem.
Cecilie Keenan's direction and casting for Raggedy And is also problematic. Kropp and Ortiz come out the best with well-rounded characterizations, but Anderson and Nelson struggle at embodying the dramatic moments that they're in. Nelson in particular acts as if she's just biding her time to deliver Clem's many comic zingers rather than being fully present.
But then Valdes Greenwood's Raggedy And script isn't always the easiest to perform. It often feels more concerned with identity debates rather than offering up realistic characters and dialogue.
Raggedy And is valiant in the sense that it offers opportunities for diverse actors to perform a plot exploring the importance of self-definition with gender and sexuality. But Raggedy And probably would have been more powerful if it more honestly reflected our times of minority fear-mongering and political polarization rather than being the hopeful near-future fantasy it's content to be.
