Weather Girl - Soho Theatre
A play that changes the way one produces as well as the way a girl sees the world. Weather Girl, written by Brian Watkins and produced by Francesca Moody Productions. Magical realism has always fascinated me. Having gone to high school in California, I was hooked as soon as it began. A short one-woman show about a California woman might seem simple. It was far from simple. The play tackled the way we leave the world today, the differences between our lives and our parents’ lives, and what a real meltdown truly is. It explored the idea of a perfect world and the breaking away of its edges to reveal what surrounds us.
Kyoto comes to mind, only because of the shared theme of climate change. While Kyoto sparked a conversation about logistics, once the theatre performance was over, people began whispering about the California fires. The set, designed like a Weather Girl national television studio, created a sense of discomfort. From the beginning, when a man touched her or spoke, the mic was always above her, forcing her entire body to contort toward it and toward him.
Brian Watkins writes with urgency: “this thing that happened led to this thing that happened, and yeah…” The dialogue almost feels too casual for the stage, but when Julia McDermott performed it, everything became dark. The room shifted. It was no longer a bunch of people watching, but just her, the lights, water, and the intrusive sensation of being observed. It felt claustrophobic in the Soho Theatre, already a small space, but with Julia’s constant eye contact, the room seemed to shrink. The tension peaked when her mother, Stacy’s mother, spoke and the anxiety escalated. One human on stage became almost a wrecking ball. The lights lowered while her shadow grew taller on the back wall. Her mother became a monster hovering over her like prey. It was terrifying, keeping the audience on the edge of their seats. Everyone in the room watched her, breathed when she breathed, laughed when she laughed. The jokes, once lighthearted, began to feel almost sinister as the narrative revealed people in the house she filmed and stood in front of while it burned down.
To witness this perspective after the LA fires could have left some audience members feeling estranged, and I am sure it did for some. But the way she held herself and how her body transformed made the audience feel the experience. Her lightheartedness, combined with posture and movement, heightened the effect. Yes, the dialogue was quippy and action-driven, but Tyne Rafaeli’s direction, including how Julia moved and stood, created moments of unsteady, terrified anticipation. The theme of climate change was evident, but the exploration of human experience stood out even more.
This beautiful “Weather Girl,” who should be unaffected and always smiling, became a raging alcoholic lunatic who could make water appear. It was the most frightened I have ever been while seated, and simultaneously, the most on edge. I was just waiting for what would come next.
