Off-B'way Review: The Burning Cauldron of Fiery Fire

Bobby Moreno, Bartley Booz, Cricket Brown,
Donetta Lavinia Grays, Jeff Biehl, and
Bruce McKenzie in The Burning Cauldron
of Fiery Fire. Credit: Carol Rosegg

I was looking forward to Anne Washburn’s The Burning Cauldron of Fiery Fire, a co-production of The Vineyard Theatre and the Civilians playing at the former’s Off-Broadway space. Washburn’s Mr. Burns: A Post-Electronic Play was a clever and moving depiction of a grim electricity-free future where the only entertainment is re-enacting episodes of The Simpsons. Her 10 Out of 12 was a delightfully daffy send-up of tech rehearsals of a struggling theater company. Burning Cauldron has an interesting central premise, but Washburn fails to develop it significantly. None of the characters are relatable. The main action doesn’t go anywhere and its theme is unclear. The play is a rough first draft. Very rough. Steve Cosson’s indifferent direction and the flat performances fail to make up for the script’s shortcomings. By the end of two hours-plus running time, my only reaction was “What a waste of time and talent.”

The first act does show potential. We’re in a farming commune in Northern California. (Andrew Boyce’s homey set imparts rustic charm.) The crunchy-Granola residents’ goals appear to be getting away from the madness of modern civilization, conveyed by the cast reciting natural images of their property Greek-chorus style. One of the members, a painter named Peter (Tom Peckina), dies under mysterious circumstances and his co-habitants don’t want to contact the authorities. Government bad, remember? Milo (Bobby Moreno), one of the many children in the commune, speaks to the audience as a grown-up and informs us that he never liked Peter and also gives his impressions of life in the community from his perspective as a grown man. Washburn seems to offer foreshadowing that Milo had something to do with Peter’s death, also that the child was sexually molested by one of the other adults in the group, but these plot elements are never really developed. 

Tom Peckina and Marianne Rendon in
The Burning Cauldron of Fiery Fire.
Credit: Carol Rosegg

The community debates about how to handle Peter’s death. Their leader Thomas (Bruce McKenzie) rails against outside intrusions, symbolized by the house telephone which he later locks in a gerbil cage. There are lively conflicts within the group and they finally decide to burn Peter’s remains and not inform his family. (The funeral fire has something to do with the title, but I’m not sure what.) The act concludes with Peter’s estranged brother Will (also played by Peckina) showing up and asking uncomfortable questions. There’s potential for an explosive confrontation, but no such luck.  

In the second act, things really go off the rails. The children (played the adults in double roles) perform a fairy-tale pageant for Will. The play-within-in-a-play is meant to be an allegory with a prince named Peter surviving death—I suppose. The sketch offers delightful costumes by Emily Rebholz and enchanting puppets from Monkey Boys Productions as well as cute performances from Moreno, Donetta Lavinia Grays, Cricket Brown and Bartley Booz as kids playing make-believe royalty, wizards, and heroes. But the vignette does not add to our understanding of Washburn’s subtext. Later, Will flirts with Mari (Marianne Rendon), who appears to be in a relationship with Thomas, but that’s never made apparent. Oh, by the way, she was also having an affair with Peter.

It’s unclear what Washburn’s overall message in in this messy menage. Milo’s adult monologues reveal he grows up to be some kind of high-finance capitalist with no morals, totally the opposite career goal and ethics from those who raised him. Is the playwright making a point about undisciplined idealism leading to unchecked narcissism? Will informs Thomas that his family is fabulously wealthy and Peter would have come into a fortune which enrages Thomas. Is Washburn blasting the hypocrisy of the farmers? Finally, Peter is seen in a locked basement with a huge fire blazing menacingly and the dragon puppet from the fairy-tale play crouching in the corner. Is he alive? Dead? Is this a metaphor? For what? Washburn leads us down several paths, but all reach a dead end. So we don’t care what happens to any other characters or what she is trying to say.

Nov. 9—Dec. 7. Vineyard Theatre and The Civilians at the Vineyard Theatre, 108 E. 15th St., NYC. Running time: two hours and 20 mins. including intermission. vineyardtheatre.org.