The Invisible World: a play · Posted Apr 13, 10:35 AM by Todd Babiak
When I was little, I feared mimes. I continue to fear them. The white faces, the puffy clothing, the things that were not there. I remember, falling asleep in my little bed in Leduc, desperately turning my attention to other concerns — the sugary cereal I would eat the following morning, cartoons I would watch on Saturday, the dramas of East Elementary. Anything but thinking about mimes, who would surely haunt my dreams with their… I’m in a box routines.
I am writing my first-ever play for children. My first-ever play for anyone. The woman who commissioned me to write the play asked for something true about my upbringing. Preferably, my culture.
Of course, I am a culture-less mongrel. I identify with countries with which I share no affiliation by name or blood: France, Mexico, Spain. Is my name Ukrainian or Polish? Both? My parents’ other names are Collingwood and Bruce, Larson, Dedio. I sat across from the woman, in her downtown office, and tried to think of a cultural theme that wasn’t either forced or completely nonsensical. I failed.
Happily, I did not suffer for my cultural heritage. Certain people think Eastern Europeans are dopes, but that’s funny more than painful. Never once have I agonized or obsessed over it. I pick and choose, from a buffet of traditions, cuisines, religions: seeking curry and quietude, nothingness, potato latkes and blintzes in December, Day of the Dead cookies, plenty of goat cheese on Bastille Day.
Then it came to me: mimes! As a kid I suffered for, and focused on, mimes. Where are mimes from? Mimes and other strange creatures of movement theatre? From the invisible world.
So I am writing a play about mimes, and the invisible world. Scary? Sort of. Strange? Oh yes. The first draft is due this week, and I continue to fuss over it. I am representing myself through a quasi-redneck named Steve — whose nickname is Crusher. Am I proud of my feelings about mimes? No.
No! No!
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