When I first heard that Our Own Voice Theatre Troupe was holding
writing workshops to develop a play called Ms. Bipolar: A
Pageant, I got excited. Our Own Voice is a fantastic nonprofit
company of artists who, since 1991, have been working to empower people
marginalized by mental illness. Our Own Voice likes to skewer media
constructs while demystifying mental illness, so a bipolar beauty
pageant sounded like a rich vein of crazy waiting to be transformed
into something unexpected.

But now, after all that initial excitement, I’m feeling a little
low, because, in spite of some occasionally inspired bon mots and a
handful of over-the-top performances, Ms. Bipolar misses both of
its targets. I left the theater knowing no more about bipolar disorder
than I did when I walked through the door, and I seriously wondered if
anybody on the creative team had ever actually witnessed any sort of
pageant firsthand.

The Ms. Bipolar Pageant — where men and women compete side by
side — is vaguely reminiscent of reality TV programming with just
a dash of Jerry Springer tossed in to keep things trashy. There are no
sashes, no swimsuits, no nosebleed-inducing high heels. There are no
media-generated images of beauty and perfection. There’s only a handful
of even-keeled contestants with a few nicely written but incomplete
stories about living with bipolar disorder and a panel of three
eccentric judges representing three distinct ways of assessing the
condition. There is also a stereotypical host, a stereotypical stage
manager, and a stereotypical TV exec who think infantile bickering is
the basic building block of good television. None of it is ever
developed.

Generally, the judges here seem more troubled than the contestants.
Khyber Daniel plays Ambrose Coward, a haughty poet dangerously inclined
to romanticize the illness. By his estimation, bipolar disorder is less
a condition to be monitored than a gift to be cultivated. He is joined
by red-haired bartender extraordinaire Jo Chetter as Davina Redbone, a
larger-than-life New Ager and proponent of holistic healing, and Dr.
Fredric Kazinski, a self-overestimating pill-pusher played by a glaring
and intense Christopher Hulett. This trio’s intramural bickering is the
closest this large cast comes to ensemble acting.

Our Own Voice is an inclusive company with a wide-open casting
policy. Ensembles are often multiracial and multigenerational, with
older and younger actors cast effectively in what other theaters might
consider age-inappropriate roles.

Likewise, some are actors coping with a variety of mental illnesses
and performing alongside “normals.” Theatergoers who go in expecting
fancy sets and polished, traditional acting styles are bound to be as
disappointed as the couple that sat behind me and walked out 15 minutes
into the show. Frankly, I was a little envious, since the opening of
the play was unfocused and the overarching narrative was disjointed.
But, as usual, I was glad I stuck around.

Ms. Bipolar may have been 45 minutes of good theater spread
across two hours, but the excesses were justified by a comic “heavy
metal” tap dance performed by Paula Armstrong and a pair of beautiful,
introspective movement pieces gracefully danced by the willowy Linley
Schmit.

Schmit’s final number is a duet of sorts with a video projection of
herself in bed. It’s a haunting, touching piece, and it may say more
about the experience of bipolar disorder than all the rest of the
show’s content combined.

It’s important to understand that Our Own Voice isn’t some
therapeutic program for troubled actors. Neither is it a simple
advocacy group. At its best, the troupe makes confrontational works
that reach out across the footlights to challenge audiences to rethink
everything they thought they knew about “illness” and the fragile thing
we call “sanity.”

Ms. Bipolar never quite measures up to the company’s best
work, but it’s still a milestone. It’s the first show directed by
Claire Rutkauskas, who started performing with the company 15 years ago
when she was only 9. Having grown up onstage and under the tutelage of
Our Own Voice founder and innovative director/playwright Bill Baker, it
will be interesting to see what happens when Rutkauskas’ own vision
matures.

Through June 14th at TheatreWorks