By Jen Huszcza
We all remember the financial meltdown back in 2007. The government bailout. The collapse of Lehman Brothers. Executive Bonuses. Subprime mortgages. Those good ole days.
Earlier this year in a week of masochism, I watched the Oscar winning documentary Inside Job and the drama Margin Call back to back. At the same time, Greece was defaulting, and austerity was the new word in everyone’s vocabulary.
I wanted to write about the ongoing economic crisis, but I didn’t know how. How do you talk about something that is both epic and abstract at the same time?
When I got the topic, Mouths of Babes, I thought about Wall Street executives in their playroom.
Rubadubdub. Three men in a Tub. A butcher, a baker, a candlestick maker. But my three men don’t make anything. They just play. They’re toddlers babbling away on their colourful carpet. They’re not intellectuals. They say nothing of substance. They just shift things from place to place. When their play turns destructive, they have a nanny who will make things right, so they can continue to play.
With this play, I was stepping out of my dialogue zone. The play happens in its physicality as if I’m choreographing a dance on the page.
I like the word pop. It’s short, balanced, but oh so destructive.
While I was in Spain, Tiffany emailed me to let me know that Pop will be produced in the Prescott. I did a little happy dance, ate some paella, and thought about how I would get to Prescott in July.