‘we are continuous’ at convergence-continuum Shifts the Narrative

“we are continuous” is a play that tells the story of a gay man’s relationship with his religious mother, but not in the theatrical way that you’d expect.

Instead of watching scenes where the son character, Simon (Noah Christopher), meets his husband, Abe (Michael J. Montanus), the two characters guide us through their first date by speaking to the audience directly. We don’t watch Simon come out as gay to his mother, Ora (Sherri Tolliver), and his father, Hoyt. We don’t see their reactions to the news, or come to our own conclusions about the characters’ feelings via an actor. Instead, we are told about it.

There’s a popular adage in creative writing: “show don’t tell.” Rather than giving the reader a direct interpretation of what is happening, you give them the tools to do the interpreting for themselves. Harrison David Rivers’ “we are continuous” doesn’t play by this rule, unraveling its story with a series of monologues and vignettes spoken directly through the fourth wall.

The intimate, emotional production of “we are continuous” at convergence-continuum is proof that not all rules are meant to be followed.

The semi-autobiographical show by Rivers premiered at the Williamstown Theatre Festival in 2022. The production at convergence-continuum under the direction of Jeannine Gaskin and Lauren Lash is the piece’s Ohio premiere.

Gaskin and Lash approached the show with a gentle hand and simple staging. The power of Rivers’ script comes from the authentic delivery of the dialogue that often reads like personal essays. Fortunately, convergence-continuum’s actors deliver their monologues with care and honesty–both of which are necessary to make a show like “we are continuous” sing.

The story begins with Ora fiddling with the settings on the dining room table. She straightens forks and spoons and napkins as she tells us about her son and ponders what it means to be “close” to a grown child. From this first monologue, Tolliver emits an aura that is immediately warm and nurturing, yet undeniably strong. Ora’s love for her child is at once evident, and her musings about her relationship with her son and the expectations that go hand-in-hand with parenthood are honest and raw–thanks to both the script and Tolliver’s performance.

Our first real introduction to Simon is when he tells us about the moment he knew he was gay. Christopher delivers this monologue–and the rest of Simon’s many lengthy speeches–with confidence. Were you to run into Christopher after the performance, it might take a minute to separate them from their hyper-realistic portrayal of Simon. Christopher’s performance is most interesting in its ability to depict Simon’s gracefulness alongside a deeper, unspoken volatility that lies under the surface. Simon is outwardly gracious with his parents, but Christopher’s portrayal gives us the sense that the character is constantly tamping down a boiling frustration that is overdue to erupt.

Not to be overlooked is Montanus as Abe. While Abe is the last to be introduced in the one-act, 90-minute show, the character slides into the narrative effortlessly. Montanus is poised and down-to-earth in his portrayal. Abe is at once likable, and his perspective as an outsider seeking acceptance from the in-laws is oh-so-relatable. His interactions with Simon and Ora also lend the production a few light-hearted, humorous moments.

One character not brought to life by an actor, but rather by continuous reference, is Hoyt, Simon’s father. Hoyt struggles to accept his son’s sexuality, and Ora is caught between maintaining a relationship with her only child and doing what a godly woman should: obey her husband, the head of the household.

The black box stage consists of three separate playing areas. On one side is a wooden table set for four and on the other is a bed. With the exception of a couple of chairs, the center of the stage is reserved for straightforward monologuing. Scenic designer Scott Zolkowski painted the walls and floor of the space with gray, intersecting lines reminiscent of the cracks that break a sheet of ice into individual pieces, which is both intriguing and on-theme.

Helping to define each space are the lighting and sound design by Robert Wachala and Léo Fez, respectively. Scenes set in the family’s dining room are accompanied by the imposing tick of a grandfather clock. None of the other spaces has a consistent ambiance like the dining room, but there are plenty of sound effects to accompany the other action. Wachala’s soft lighting shifts in time and in tune with the story, using cool blues and warm yellows in a dance that highlights the characters and action.

Coordinating with these colors is the costume design by Mia Jones. Ora wears a modest, soft yellow dress, which is in sharp contrast to Simon’s crisp, dark blue button-down. Bridging the gap and falling somewhere in the middle of the two is Abe in his jeans and button-down topped with a sweater vest.

“we are continuous” is far from the first show to explore gay or bi-racial relationships. Nor is it rare in how it explores themes of family, acceptance and forgiveness. Instead, convergence-continuum’s show distinguishes itself by the unique way in which it journeys through those explorations: directly and with immense sincerity.

“we are continuous” runs through Aug. 31 at convergence-continuum, 2438 Scranton Road, Cleveland. Visit convergence-continuum.org or call 216-687-0074 for tickets, $18-$23.

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