I Must Be Cynical: My Fair Share of the Sun

I saw a play last night. It was a school production, and unusual in the fact that it was only one act. It was even more unusual in that there was no singular lead, backdrop, or specially-made costumes. For the most part it consisted of fourteen students sitting in chairs or on ladders wearing a black t-shirt and jeans, seven across from the other seven. It was called My Fair Share of the Sun, a very new play. And it was amazing...until the very end.

The summary, from this:

Uncle Fy and his niece Zoe plant 14 white birches along the lonely dirt road to his cabin in the woods. Shortly thereafter, a violent storm destroys the house and uproots the elder trees, who were the beloved caretakers of these 14, leaving them to fend for themselves. Despite the best efforts of a few of the trees, the group splits into two rival groups, each living on opposite sides of the road, as they race to grow to the sky and crowd each other out in an insatiable hunger for sunlight. They descend into chaos and treachery but, in a momentous climax, achieve an ironic peace—chained to the tiny society that defines their entire world, trying to decide who owns the sun. This is a symbolist play about us—all of us—and our struggle to be the social creatures we all know we have to be in order to live together on both sides of the road.

It sounds so cheesy. And the beginning was, and the ending was. But the middle? It was brilliant. There was childish bickering as they tried to figure out what they meant in this world and understand each other. There was the beginning of rivalry, and the descent into greed and madness. Whole scenes were comprised of shouting and screaming in terror. The fear of dying and the desire to die and get it over with. They turned against each other, sometimes very brutally. A few took control and bullied the others into following along to throw rocks at the rivals. A couple tried to strangle squirrels. And near the very end, it looks like even the good ones on the dominating side are going down the wrong path.

Except...the ending.

Up until the ending, it appeared that they a few trees were going to systematically destroy the others in an endless struggle. They would make more and more enemies with each other. It was like Lord of the Flies with trees.  Their bond was going to be their downfall. It was so beautiful and dark. This was a five-star play for me. But then...the ending.

See, the dominant faction of trees, at the request of what appeared to be one of its good members, joins branches in the middle of frigid weather that was in danger of killing them. The apparently good tree assures the others that they're not going to fall backward, which terrifies the trees across from them, because it looks like they will fall on top of the others and kill them all. The lights go out. There are screams and cracking sound effects.

But they didn't all die. They became intertwined, some of them even switching sides of the roads. And I mean, I suppose that is ironic. But it was just a little bit thematically inconsistent with what came before for my tastes. And I think I really wanted more of the terrifying decent into darkness.

This accentuated something about myself. I spent most of my time yesterday figuring out what I really wanted to write in terms of age range, and how dark was acceptable. I just really love unhappy endings, especially when they say something about ourselves.