Strollers Theatre's Production Gets Lost on its Way to Almost, Maine

Photo by Steve Noll.

Before the lights went down for Strollers Theatre’s current production of John Cariani’s uber popular Almost, Maine, I was distracted by the set. Two-thirds of the stage is dominated by huge wooden panels, and in front of each wall is a pile of what appears to be polyester fiberfill — the cottony stuffing that goes into pillows and stuffed animals. Judging from the old fashioned runner sleds nearby, it is a good guess that these lumpy white masses are supposed to fill in for snow, but they more closely resemble mounds of mashed potatoes. 

And that’s a problem because Wisconsinites know snow — everyone in the audience had to step over snow banks to arrive at the theater that night. The unconvincing stage “snow” gives way to an “snowball” used in the first scene that looks like a rolled-up sock. Theater is all about suspending disbelief and entering an imaginary world, but in order to do that, a production has got to meet the audience halfway. And like a halfhearted window display leftover from Christmas, this one often does not.

Directed by Lee Waldhart and running at the Bartell through February 15, Almost, Maine is a series of two- or three-person vignettes set in a tiny, snow-bound town in rural Maine where the Northern Lights twinkle, but the nights are long. Everyone knows everyone else, but those in the most important relationships don’t really know each other. The piece was originally written as stand alone short scenes for Cariani to perform in New York City when he was a struggling actor. They allowed him to reminisce about growing up in a Lake Wobegon-esque village in Maine where there’s only one diner, snowmobiling is a popular pastime and people are friendly enough to answer their doors in the middle of the night, let complete strangers camp on their property, and offer free beer to someone who’s having a hard time. 

The script is immensely popular with high schools and community theaters because it has a flexible cast (it can use 4-19 actors), each scene tells a complete story and rehearsals are really easy to arrange, since most of them are simple dialogues. The scenes are also attractive to actors because they feature quirky characters at a huge crossroads in their lives; letting go of a lover or spouse or declaring one’s love for a new one. And there’s not a lot of fluff in the writing — it gets right to the life-changing issue, usually with a magic or comical element thrown in to embellish the inherent drama.

But like the cotton lumps of “snow” that decorate the set, much of the cast for Almost, Maine has trouble making their scenes feel real, or all that important. The running gag in the prologue and epilogue completely deflates under vague, halfhearted execution. And there were themes left unexplored in “This Hurts” that could have given that piece much more depth. Some of the episodes also feel much longer than they are as a result of weak choices. 

But just as the Northern Lights peek out of the small amount of sky that isn’t covered by the set, there are a few moments of brilliance too. Payton Cardella, who was so impressive as the lead in Strollers Theatre’s 2019 production of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime, really shines in two roles. In “This Hurts,” he plays an atypical teenager who can’t feel pain and in “Story of Hope,” he is the guy left behind after his girlfriend (Maria Cina) takes off, rather than answer his marriage proposal. In both scenes he shows real presence and vulnerability that energize the storytelling.

Photo by Steve Noll.

Similarly, Sara Wojtak and Patrick Mahoney bring a lot of enthusiasm to “Seeing the Thing,” where two snowmobiling buddies realize that underneath dozens of layers of winter clothing, perhaps their hearts beat for one another. And Mahoney also does well partnered with Trey Danis III in “They Fell,” which relies on broad physical comedy to illustrate a new bond the two men share.

There is certainly room in a theater season for an old chestnut or two, but perhaps this play has been done in Madison one too many times. (According to the program, Waldhart has actually directed the play more than once.) Or maybe the production founders due to a lack of commitment all around. Whatever the case, it just doesn’t pay to take shortcuts on your way to Almost, Maine.