What's Your Beef
By KAREN SHADE World Scene Writer 2/16/2007
Joseph Gomez (left), John Cruncleton, Jason Watts and Sara Cruncleton get in your face for "Big Beef." STEPHEN PINGRY / Tulsa World
Nightingale Theater ventures off script for civic duty
Few people who have witnessed John Cruncleton performing on stage in the nude would accuse him or anyone else strongly associated with Nightingale Theater of having nothing to say.
That was then, October's "Even More Old-Fashioned Poison Candy" and a sketch constructed around a mantis-like freak who waits on his dowager mother while he wears nothing but a mask and a strip of cloth. Turns out, the dude's a respected leader of his community (a politician if I remember correctly) living a secret life. It's a script.
But as a writer, theater owner Cruncleton along with his creative cohorts recently felt a need to share their views of Tulsa's current social, political and cultural climate, but only if they get to play at the same time.
Thus arrives "Big Beef," a show for the mature audience and those also willing to explore ideology while setting it on fire. The show opens at the theater Friday night.
"We just kind of wanted to see what we had to say, in way, through 'Big Beef.' I guess we all felt that we kind of needed it," he said.
The "Poison Candy" shows and last month's "Humans" were both products of the resident 50 Swats Writers Collective, a team turning out fictional mini dramas corralled into two hours.
"As writers, I think that all of us tend to (write) for, maybe, a more internal world view," Cruncleton said. "None of us are particularly given to topical statements. That's not to say we don't have a log of ridiculous opinions like everyone else."
Venturing into reality, "Big Beef" is set up like a town hall meeting or any civic meeting, such as a city council session. The audience is the collaborator of this effort, acting as members of a community. They register themselves into new identities and political camps for the night.
Parties will draw up and debate (possibly absurd) proposals, compete in games pegged for liberals or conservatives, be entertained with "local historical nuggets" (short reenactments with shadow puppets) and re-live "Exciting Moments in Tulsa Civic Government" (staged readings from bland transcripts from real city council meetings).
"Big Beef," as described, is civic action amplified by theatrical device and imagination -- play mixed with politics and custom, designed not so much to entertain as to engage.
For the show to work, "Big Beef" requires an audience mixed of regulars and those who may not have considered dropping in on the Nightingale before. Courting variety invites the communication of ideas and points of view from all groups Cruncleton said.
"That sounds kind of pat, but that's what theater is," he said.
Like its recurring "Old Crow Confessions" show (playing the last Saturday of every month), "Big Beef" is a format the Nightingale hopes to bring back regularly.
"Although this is topical, it's not didactic and we're not preaching our world view. We're presenting our world view," he said.
Cruncleton said he isn't concerned about people getting angry and storming out.
"I'm worried rather conversely that people won't be impassioned about it. I think that we have to create the right tone, and the tone has to impel people to participate and express themselves and give them a good payoff for doing so, but at the same time we don't want people to get inflamed. If people do get angry, we're doing something wrong," he said.