An Acton Off-Broadway Theatre Review: Thirdwing’s The Animals Speak
In the Mouse of Madness
By Acton
Once upon a time, the President of the United States cared so much about friendship with our neighbors that he sent Walt Disney and his artists on a goodwill mission to the “ABC countries” of Argentina, Brazil, and Chile. This ’41 trip resulted in the 42-minute featurette Saludos Amigos, a grab bag of samba music, colorful animation, and travelogue footage of the all-American Disney gang spreading good cheer abroad. Thirdwing‘s The Animals Speak (writer and director Cameron Darwin Bossert) is the story of that trip, and the conclusion of A Venomous Color, a trilogy of plays exploring the early days of Walt Disney Studios.
Behind the on-camera grin, Walt (Bossert) is barely holding it together in increasingly demanding roles as a husband, son, artist, boss, and FDR’s spearhead against the Nazis in South America. Back in Burbank, his animators are on strike, and his only source of news across expensive long-distance phone calls is his uncommunicative brother. When he tries to pitch gags for a cartoon with his playfully stressed-out animators Frank Thomas (Adam Griffith) and Norm “Fergie” Ferguson (Cian Genaro), he remembers that Goofy’s creator is now leading the strike against him and flies into a rage.
Walt’s wife, Lillian, portrayed with panache by Ginger Kearns, is a frustrated person drawn in negative contours: she loathes Pinocchio, can’t get into The Grapes of Wrath, and even thinks Donald Duck is foul. Lillian desperately needs a vacation from this vacation, and only finds it when she rebels against the itinerary and deliberately gets lost and drunk, dragging Mary Blaire (Krysten Wagner) along as a sounding board and co-conspirator.
Blaire, whose bold and appealing designs defined the Disney style of the 1950s (Cinderella, Alice in Wonderland) and the 60s (It’s a Small World at Disneyland), seems to be the only one to truly take advantage of the opportunity to explore a new locale. Wagner plays her with a voracious artist’s eye that vacuums up the new colors and shapes, animals and people of Latin America. As her childish coworkers prod her for a reaction, she seems to follow the advice of Thumper’s mother in Bambi: “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say nothing at all.”
Animals’ cast and costumes (designer Yolanda Balana) are delightfully on-model. As Frank Thomas, Adam Griffith moves with the grace and humor of a master animator, and Chan Genaro’s Norm is winning and playful as Frank’s counterpoint, creating fun on demand for their boss. All are styled brilliantly: while Frank and Norm sweat in their office clothes, Walt and Lillian can afford chic leisurewear, and Mary Blaire is as neat and stylish as her gouaches.
As a workplace drama and history play, The Animals Speak at The Wild Project picks up several thematic threads, including the treatment of employees and particularly women at the Studio, Walt’s mental deterioration, and how the global imagination is homogenized when a fairy tale goes through the Disney machine. The consequences of appropriation are raised late in the play in a monologue from Jorge (Felipe Arellano), who Walt meets in Chile. It’s a criticism that anticipates other dramatic episodes in Disney’s life and art, such as the making of Song of the South, and made me wish for a part 4. Although it’s a bit overpacked with ideas, The Animals Speak is a fascinating project, well performed.
