Tracy Letts’ dark comedy gets a stellar production in Fort Collins.

I can’t think of anything more quintessentially American than a small-town council meeting. A room full of local eccentrics nursing stale cups of coffee and clashing over parking disputes, budget allocations and community events. The pledge of allegiance, the opening prayer — it’s democracy in its most familiar, and often absurd, form.

This is the world Tracy Letts brilliantly dissects in his dark comedy The Minutes, now playing at OpenStage in Fort Collins under the direction of Sydney Parks Smith. In today’s political climate, there may be no better moment to stage it.

From left, Brenna Freestone-Gilbert, Dan Tschirhart Jysten Atom and Jozeph Mykaels in the OpenStage Theatre production of ‘The Minutes.’ | Photo: Aubrey Renee Photography

Inconvenient truths

The Minutes unfolds in Big Cherry, Oklahoma. It’s a town that, at first glance, seems perfectly ordinary, but harbors a sinister truth beneath. Our entry into this world comes at the top of the show in the form of Mr. Peel (Jozeph Mykaels), the newest member of the Big Cherry Town Council and an affable audience surrogate. We’re also introduced to Ms. Johnson (Brenna Freestone-Gilbert), the council’s clerk, who records the minutes with meticulous precision yet remains an enigma herself. One by one the rest of the council members trickle in, each adding to the play’s simmering tension.

The council is made up of 10 distinct characters, each brought to life by OpenStage’s energetic cast. The staging cleverly divides the council into three sections. At the center, we have the “boys’ club” of the commanding Mayor Superba (Christopher Gausselin), the sheriff’s brother Mr. Assalone (Steven P. Sickles) and the masculine Mr. Breeding (Andrew Cole). To the left sits what Mr. Breeding deems the “PC police” — the nebbish yet well-intentioned Mr. Hanratty (Dan Tschirhart), the somewhat slimy Mr. Blake (Jysten Atom) and the more grounded figures of Mr. Peel and Ms. Johnson. On the right, the council’s eccentricities really shine, with the over-medicated Ms. Matz (Molly McGuire), the doddering Mr. Oldfield (David Siever) and the zany Ms. Innes (Louise Thornton).

The missing member

One absence looms large: Councilman Carp’s (Shannon Parr) nameplate sits firmly in place, yet he is nowhere to be seen. The only information that Peel is given about Carp’s disappearance is that he resigned at last week’s meeting, but nobody will share why. Even more concerning to Peel, the minutes from the meeting in question are conspicuously missing.

Despite Peel’s growing confusion, the council presses on with its agenda, including planning the upcoming Founders’ Day celebration. As the councilmembers’ petty grievances give way to more uncomfortable discussions, Peel begins to unravel not just the mystery of Carp’s disappearance, but also the dark history that lies buried beneath the very founding of Big Cherry and our country as a whole.

Through the microcosm of a city council meeting, The Minutes delves deep into themes of American mythmaking, the erasure of inconvenient truths, and the ways in which narratives are constructed, manipulated and passed onto future generations. This is a play that isn’t afraid to challenge its characters and its audience — and I was captivated from start to finish.

A wild scene in ‘The Minutes’ at OpenStage Theatre. | Photo: Aubrey Renee Photography

A masterclass in visual storytelling

Beyond the plot and performances, this production truly excels in its set design by Caleb Gilbert. Along with a detailed and realistic meeting room, Props Designer Starla Kovar adds a wealth of masterful touches, paying meticulous attention to every detail. The council members’ seats and tables are just the beginning; Kovar fills the space with a wealth of minutiae that work almost like Easter eggs. There’s a trophy for the town’s beloved football team (Go Savages!), a wall lined with photos of past town leaders (all white men) and a framed print of John Gast’s iconic painting American Progress, long considered an emblem of Manifest Destiny.

But perhaps the most striking detail is the stained glass window above it all, depicting “The Battle of Mackie Creek” — a face-off between the town’s original settlers and the Sioux. The stained glass subtly evokes both the ominous mythology of the American frontier and church iconography (Mr. Oldfield remarks that he could never tell the difference between church and school.) This set is a masterclass in visual storytelling, and it’s some of the most effective exposition I’ve seen purely through scenic design.

The lighting and costume design were solid and effective. The volume of the dialogue at times could be louder. I was sitting toward the back, and there were a few moments when it was hard to hear the actors. I’m not sure if it was an issue with microphones or just projection, but it did make some parts more difficult to follow.

Power, memory and complicity

The Minutes is a sharp, timely piece of theatre that blends humor with some astute commentary on American history. It challenges its audience to reflect on power, memory and complicity, all while delivering strong performances from its cast, including some welcome new faces for OpenStage. This is a production that’s as entertaining as it is meaningful and will leave you reconsidering the stories we inherit and the truths we choose to keep.