In ‘Clink, Clink,’ small, local, personal theatre has its day

Here it is, theatre in its purest form: 30 seats, all filled in a tiny black-box theatre with two actors on the stage in a minimalist set. The playwright is sitting in front of me while the cast and crew, all friends, make the magic on stage.

Of course, that appealing tableau is meaningless if the material is weak, but Kevin Douglas’ script is excellent. It’s a powerful exploration of a relationship that transcends time, gender identification and the usual ups and downs of life to present a tender, heartwarming portrayal of two friends sharing the messy business of growing up.

I had the opportunity to interview the principals of one of Denver’s newest theatre companies, 2¢ Lion, last summer when they presented their first show at the Denver Fringe Festival. This new show, Clink, Clink, represents the first real stand-alone production by 2¢.

The story follows two friends starting from the age of 7 all the way to 35. Olivia (Gracie Jacobson) and Elliot (Izzy Chern) meet when Olivia gets dropped off by her mom at Elliot’s house and the two girls, after a rocky start, become besties. It’s 1994, and the music and set dressings reflect the time period. Ensuing scenes are all back in Elliot’s bedroom and jump in four-year increments all the way to present day.

In that timespan, the girls grow into women and confront the usual business of school politics, gossip, dating, searching and figuring out who they are. Elliot, with the help of a cool aunt, learns early on that boys aren’t her thing, and she settles into her queer identity with relative ease — aided by her straightforward approach of not giving a fuck what anyone else thinks of her.

Chern is staggeringly good in this role, using their open, honest face to portray the sensitive soul inside the gruff exterior. It seems increasingly clear that, while she likes to girl hop for fun, Elliot’s heart really lies with Olivia. As the two grow into women, their dynamic grows ever more fascinating — a case study of two people afraid in different ways of saying what they really want.

Jacobson beautifully depicts an indecisive woman who chooses bisexuality as a way to skirt the decision altogether — at least for a time. We all know Olivias, the people who keep everyone at arm’s length while family and friends puzzle over the seemingly erratic behavior. Olivia is a deer at the watering hole, so skittish that she jumps at the slightest incursion into her here-and-now. Jacobson is perfect as that person who remains mysterious, even ghosting you for years on end, while remaining implausibly appealing.

Izzy Chern (left) and Gracie Jacobson in ‘Clink, Clink’

Aging up

The device of basing the play’s eight scenes on individual years is a challenging and ambitious approach for such a small production, but Chern and Jacobson do nice work aging their characters up from two girls blasting raspberries at each other to two grown women tying themselves in knots over their life decisions and what they mean to each other.

But what to do about all those scene changes? The creative team made the decision to go all in, so rather than quick costume changes and a few token set tweaks, each scene is introduced by a lowering of the lights and stagehands coming in with a big box labeled with the year to make significant alterations.

Director Tamarra Nelson manages all this business in a clever way. Rather than doing the changes as quickly and unobtrusively as possible, she has cast and crew just own it. Taking up to five minutes for each, music plays while the crew takes their time swapping posters, changing the bedclothes, and updating the tech from CDs to iPods to smartphones. Meanwhile, Chern and Jacobson do their costume changes right there amidst the activity. With black base layers, they swap out their outer clothing nonchalantly — just as two friends might in a room together.

As the oldest person in the audience by a few decades, I thought to myself that I might not exactly be the prime demographic for Clink, Clink. After it ended, though, I reflected on what the two-centers told me about their production company. Yes, the focus is on queer stories, but the goals was to have them be about things anyone has to face, with the fact that the characters are queer being secondary.

The story of Olivia and Elliot has some particulars related to being queer that straight people may not confront, but ultimately it’s a highly relatable love story about how damn complicated human relationships can be. Douglas is writing beyond his years, displaying a level of understanding and appreciation for that reality that’s quite impressive. I loved this play for all of its elements — from the script to the actors to the way in which the production was so open and honest on every level.

There are only a few shows left next weekend and only 30 seats in that little theatre on the campus of the University of Denver. Try not to miss it!