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Devin.jpg  Review:

 

  Jones’s Poetry of the American Spirit:
  Sarah Jones's Bridge and Tunnel

  Devin Delliquanti

 

 


 

One can easily compliment Sarah Jones’s mind-blowingly malleable acting ability. She wears the characters snugly on her skin and finds the subtlest nuances of the slightest physical tics. But it is not her flawless acting that makes Bridge and Tunnel perhaps the most recommendable show of the year. It seems that Jones’s soul is as malleable as her body and voice. Even with her remarkable chameleon-like talents, Jones does not simply portray a race, or an age, or a gender, as many solo performers do. She shows us fully fleshed human beings with each of her ten characters.  Jones is adept at not satirizing any of her characters, forcing us to take each one seriously. That is not to say the show is without humor. In fact, Jones delivers many uproarious moments, but never at the expense of her characters’ integrity.    

 

The show is set up as an open-mic evening for poets in the Bridge and Tunnel Café entitled I.A.M.A.P.O.E.T.T.O.O., which is an anagram for Multi-cultural American poets. The event, we are told, developed from an internet chat room to an actual gathering. Jones enters from the house entrance as a homeless man to give us the standard cell phones and wrapped candy speech, then exits and enters rapidly as Mohammed Ali, the Pakistani master of ceremonies. The microphone is center, with coat hangers/hooks scattered center stage holding many different articles of clothing. Colorful street graffiti on the back walls give the feeling of a real New York City poets café. The stage is large, but Jones is at all times in control of her surroundings and commands focus throughout the entire ninety minutes. She uses minimal physical costuming, limited to shirts, scarves, and hats. Much of her performance relies on using the cadences of ethnic voices, which flow out of her as if they were her own.

 

Jones’s characters all deal with their need to assimilate into American culture. In showing us these struggles, Jones is giving us a way of seeing what is being gained and lost in the process. Her characters deal with many issues in America. The Pakistani Ali describes himself on the phone as an “Allah-fearing Republican.” Ali’s cheeky sense of humor is used to cut through his awkward feelings, as he jokes about every thing from owning the Enemy of the State DVD to being feared for “Limericks of Mass Destruction.”  His is one of the most intricately formed characters, for we see both his public voice as the host and his private voice during the poetry night’s intermission. Jones’s other standout characters are the Polish American Jewish Woman Mrs. Levine, a young Vietnamese slam poet, a party-crashing hip-hop MC, a wheelchair-bound Latino, and Haitian immigrant. Her transitions are seamless, and normally done behind columns or a door, behind which she transforms instantaneously. The most notable transition is from a Bronx teacher to the student she is introducing. Jones exits the room, only to return as the different character with a different costume before the door even closes!


Bridge and Tunnel is as strong thematically as it is technically. The characters all bring their voices to the poetry-fest, allowing for much social commentary. The powerful young Vietnamese slam poet comments on American stereotypes with “crouching tailor, hidden dry cleaner.” The Chinese mother shares her speech prepared for an immigration hearing concerning the lack of marriage rights for her Lesbian daughter and her partner. The wheelchair-bound Latino tells a heart wrenching story of his love Veronica trying to come across the border. The teenage Jordanese woman recites a Beatles song to her Iraqi crush, showing us the global reach of western culture. The struggling Haitian immigrant is finally allowed to vent about “the real estate man” by saying, “God Bless America, but not because of you.”  The Jewish Mrs. Levine claims, “I am happy to appear alongside Muslims,” yet the two are appearing on the same space of Jones’s body. Levine also tells us of a “No Jew” sign that she once saw on a highway, and that anti-immigration feeling have been the same for decades. These feelings return in the end of the play, as we learn that the I.A.M.A.P.O.E.T.T.O.O. gathering was kept out of its former Starbucks gathering space after 9/11 due to increased xenophobia. These characters find their voices at Jones’s Bridge and Tunnel, rather than through corporate America. Jones uses her solo performance to speak for many divergent groups, and gives us her own American voice in the process. In the audience at this performance was acclaimed female soloist Lily Tomlin. Tomlin led the standing ovation at the close of the show. Jones is here to stay. 

 

 

 

 

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