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The Oregonian
By Paul Duchene |
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Portlanders will be welcomed home this week to the best known small town in America. and it'll fit inside the Arlen Schitzer Concert Hall. The town is Tuna the fictitious "third smallest town in Texas." It first appeared on the map in 1981's Greater Tuna which was the most produced play in the country in 1986. This time the real inhabitants will be here, as Tuna creators Joe Sears and Jaston Williams brign the third episode, Red, White and Tuna to the stage as part of an erratic nationwide tour. It's part of Portland Opera's Keybank Best of Broadway series. Set several years after 1989s A Tuna Christmas -- which enlivened Portland Center Stage's 1996 and 1997 Christmas seasons -- the play takes place over the Fourth of July weekend and the Tuna High School reunion. It has all the fireworks (literally) you could expect from the delightful family of eccentrics brought to life by the duo. And it's a big family. Sears, 50 and Williams, 48, each contribute 11 characters and some lightning-fast costume (and personality changes).
Q: Joe, you grew up in Bartlesville, Okla., and Jaston in Crosbyton, Texas. What do people in your hometown think about Tuna? A: Sears: I had the first sample this year when we played Tulsa. We sold out all the performances, and the reviews were great. every night I went into the lobby and said hello to 1,000 people I'd grown up with. Q: You've said you have guarded affection for small towns. Can you explain that a bit? A: Williams: When we first started writing the Tuna plays, we wanted to take on the whole right wing. But we remembered what it was like to grow up with these people. They might be misguided, but they were good neighbors and, in a way, very honorable. We found out wonderful things about the characters -- like how loyal Bertha Bumiller is, and she's out burning books! Q. When did you know you'd hit a nerve and somehow Tuna had universal truths in it? A. Sears: I think it happened early in the off-Broadway run of Greater Tuna. When we saw the reviews, we realized we weren't alone thinking the Moral Majority was this half-crazed, silly organization. We were sharing the fun in what was a pretty grotesque situation. Williams: I'd guess it was in Austin, the first time we performed Greater Tuna for a couple of New York critics who happened to be in town to hear progressive country music. When we saw their reaction...Up till then we thought we'd play in Texas, but six months later we opened in New York. Q. Which of your characters do you like best? A. Sears: I enjoy Aunt Pearl; she's kind of an old sage but a wild sage -- don't put her in your garden, or she'll take over. she's based on an actual aunt I had -- mannerisms, the way she moved and talked. She's no longer alive, but I immortalized her. Williams: It depends on my mood. On days I have vengeance on my mind -- Vera Carp. She doesn't take prisoners; she's a "shoot the hostage" type woman. Something comes naturally to people in my part of the world -- they're great folk storytellers. My mother passed away a while ago in a tiny town in far west Texas. Her passing was the funniest and saddest thing. She was 87, blind and deaf and couldn't walk -- and wouldn't give up the keys to her car! Q. Can you get away with murder when you're making people laugh? A. Sears: I think you can as long as they know it's done with fun. Nobody likes to be hit over the head, and they don't like to be preached at. It takes intelligence to come up with satire everybody likes. Q. Do you know people in Texas like your new characters -- the two hippies Amber Wind-Chime and Star Bird-Feather? A. Sears: Star is based on a hippie girlfriend of mine who died about three years ago, Mary Helen. She died suddenly, and nobody got to go to her funereal. She was Jaston's roommate at one time, a hippie actress who was famous for making love during a Lubbock tornado. Williams: Mary Helen was amazing spirit. My favorite story was when she went to the dentist and they asked her if she wanted laughing gas. They gave her gas, and she rolled out of the chair onto the floor. "They put a demerit on my chart; they won't give it to me anymore," she complained. Losing Mary Helen was a very hard thing. We carry on her legend. WHERE ARE THEY NOW? It's been several years since we last heard from the residents of Tuna. Here's what they are up to:
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