Turnip Family Secrets press

What could be weirder than a modern day fairy tale about a son who convinces his bumpkin parents to hollow out their farm’s biggest turnip and move on in? The answer: a musical play based on that very premise called Turnip Family Secrets, written as a labor of love by Michael Smith, composed with 18 original jazzy cuts by Joe Woodard, and directed with just enough confusing care by Deanne Anders.
From the very first scene with Bess and Cal—played by real-life couple Paula Re and Fred Lehto—it’s clear that this is no ordinary production, as the two peruse their garden that’s overflowing with turnips of enormous size, while singing frumpy farm songs about vegetables and domestic strife. The overzealous yet entirely dependent son David, acted exuberantly by Geren Piltz, manages to persuade his parents to inhabit the turnip, a 15-foot-tall red and white stage prop, and any sort of rural-based reality that existed prior to the big move is tossed deep into the giant hole left by the overgrown tuber. Throw in sixth-grader Geoffrey Bell’s exploratory yet destructive, giant and well-meaning yet intrusive fairy, and Turnip Family Secrets succeeds in playfully baffling the audience while passing along biting commentary on white, middle-class suburban life at the same time.
There are a few interesting stage conventions along the way, especially the upright bed scene between Cal and Bess that shoots far past any of the innuendo that’s strewn throughout the rest of the production. The extended scenes of darkness also tweak the theater-going experience, puzzling those who might actually think they understand the play, past any semblance of meaning.
In several post-production barroom conversations after opening night, it’s clear to this reviewer that confusion was exactly what Smith intended, as neither the actors nor the musicians really know what the play’s about anyway. Therein lies the bungled beauty of Turnip Family Secrets: You leave the theater not knowing whether to laugh, cry, or just walk home straight-faced, a muddled mind-set that can only be created by productions that are practiced in the art of confusion.
Reviewed by Matt Kettmann



Theater
Zeniths of Zany
Turnip Family Secrets, at Center Stage Theater through April 21.
What could be weirder than a modern day fairy tale about a son who convinces his bumpkin parents to hollow out their farm’s biggest turnip and move on in? The answer: a musical play based on that very premise called Turnip Family Secrets, written as a labor of love by Michael Smith, composed with 18 original jazzy cuts by Joe Woodard, and directed with just enough confusing care by Deanne Anders. From the very first scene with Bess and Cal—played by real-life couple Paula Re and Fred Lehto—it’s clear that this is no ordinary production, as the two peruse their garden that’s overflowing with turnips of enormous size, while singing frumpy farm songs about vegetables and domestic strife. The overzealous yet entirely dependent son David, acted exuberantly by Geren Piltz, manages to persuade his parents to inhabit the turnip, a 15-foot-tall red and white stage prop, and any sort of rural-based reality that existed prior to the big move is tossed deep into the giant hole left by the overgrown tuber. Throw in sixth-grader Geoffrey Bell’s exploratory yet destructive, giant and well-meaning yet intrusive fairy, and Turnip Family Secrets succeeds in playfully baffling the audience while passing along biting commentary on white, middle-class suburban life at the same time. There are a few interesting stage conventions along the way, especially the upright bed scene between Cal and Bess that shoots far past any of the innuendo that’s strewn throughout the rest of the production. The extended scenes of darkness also tweak the theater-going experience, puzzling those who might actually think they understand the play, past any semblance of meaning. In several post-production barroom conversations after opening night, it’s clear to this reviewer that confusion was exactly what Smith intended, as neither the actors nor the musicians really know what the play’s about anyway. Therein lies the bungled beauty of Turnip Family Secrets: You leave the theater not knowing whether to laugh, cry, or just walk home straight-faced, a muddled mind-set that can only be created by productions that are practiced in the art of confusion. Reviewed by Matt Kettmann