Theater critics at several substantial London publications found Mr. Burns, a post-electric play to be elitist. Why? Because some basic knowledge of The Simpsons is certainly helpful. How dare playwright Anne Washburn build a play around some dopey Yank cartoon series, even if it has been on the air worldwide for 26 seasons, although not necessarily on the telly in the testy writers' homes? They can more easily hail Tom Stoppard for building a play around Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, and apparently you've been watching too much elitist television if you don't know who they are.
Washburn isn't really interested in The Simpsons per se, but rather in using the series as a touchstone for an exploration of mythology, storytelling, and history, and how they evolve to suit societal needs of the moment. Live theater began with evocations of mythology, and what was ceremonial evolved into what we now call "entertainment." There is a telling exchange in Mr. Burns, a weirdly wonderful play now at ACT, as a member of a vagabond troupe suggests that their work should take the opportunity to be meaningful as well as entertaining. He is quickly shot down by a colleague. "We get meaning from everything, and it's free. Meaningless entertainment is hard." And sells tickets.
Of course, if we get meaning from everything, we also get it from meaningless entertainment, and these are the kinds of philosophical thoughts unleashed in this play set at three distinct points after multiple nuclear-plant disasters have rendered large parts of the world uninhabitable. In the first act, a group of survivors sits around a campfire and tries to amuse themselves by reconstructing the "Cape Feare" episode of The Simpsons. Memories amiably collide, and we see how even recent history becomes a matter of amalgam and compromise.
While the "Cape Feare" episode, first aired in 1993, is referenced throughout the play, you don't have to be that much of a Simpsons fan if its details elude you. Washburn does a good job of having her storytellers lay out its basics and its background in two movies that had Robert Mitchum and then Robert DeNiro as the bad guy. And while you don't absolutely have to know that recurring series character Sideshow Bob is now the villain, that's one of the moments when some knowledge of the show will help.
After the casual storytelling palaver of the first act, set in the very near future, we jump ahead seven years as competing companies vie for audiences with recreation of Simpsons episodes. The group is also rehearsing mashups of commercials and popular music, playing to audience memories of happier times. But it's a cutthroat business, and those that fail with the Simpsons repertoire might be forced to downscale to, gasp, Shakespeare.
The third act is set 75 years further into the future, and a theater company's interpretation of the "Cape Feare" episode has devolved toward the kind of ceremonial, sacred even, presentations of ancient times. It's a stylized musical performance as the transmogrified events are now presented as a ritualized morality musical (Michael Friedman is the composer). This 35-minute show-within-the-show is odd, original, and uniquely captivating with its unsettling collision of the alien and familiar, and even Gilbert and Sullivan.
It's hard to single out individual cast members, for they shift from the regular folks of the first act into totally unrecognizable Kabuki-esque performers by the third act. But they make up a strong and flexible ensemble, and director Mark Rucker finds the right, and widely divergent, tones for each of the three acts. The whole enterprise is "excellent," as the title character is prone to ominously utter as he taps his fingertips together. If that image fails to fire off any neurons, you may wish to recuse yourself from this production. And that's okay. Homer, Marge, Bart, and Lisa are not the sort to hold cultural deprivation against you.
Mr. Burns, a post-electric play will run through March 15 at ACT. Tickets are $20-$120. Call (415) 749-2228 or go to www.act-sf.org.